December Tales
by Jedi-And
Summary: Set in the Legendverse: The winter after their fight at La Voix De Mort the Titans' lives are changing; when they weren't paying attention they had grown up. After a rather hectic December, the group decide to take a short break and tell each other stories about what they did over the month. Starfire and Scalpel tell their tale first...
1. A Prelude

**Chapter 1: A prelude**

December 24th

Times were changing.

It was a dim evening, as one might expect in winter, though it was neither particularly stormy nor dismal; it was, as one might expect, an almost idyllic and calm. The sound of laughter echoed throughout the letter shaped tower as the crackle of a roaring fire was washed out by men and women ranging from their early to mid-twenties telling stories and swapping tales.

The mirth was mixed, between carefully controlled chuckles echoing out of the faintest of smiles to the full throat belly laughs that caused its owner to tear up, unable to breathe normally.

The room itself was decorated in all manner of bunting flags and tinsel, tastefully tacked across the room to show spirit and willing. The tree—which _hadn't_ been decorated using some ingenious device—was upright and almost glittered with the amount of decorations that seemed to casually hang from it. Under the tree sat many gifts, large, small and in between.

And in the centre of the room, sat on a large U shaped black leather sofa, were thirteen men and women who were usually in a series of gaudy uniforms, doing impossible things. But today, they were here not as what they were in public but as who they were in private; a family. There were arguments; there had been nigh-bloody and near-murderous disagreements. Tempers had flared but they always bounced back, stronger, better, and more ready than ever.

And so they sat, in normal clothes, snacking on treats from the table, laughing and joking about the things they had done together. It had been so many years, and they had all changed so very much, but they were still here, still friends. That might never change, but times were changing.

"Man, you should have seen her face!" Victor Stone roared, one hand on his stomach and the other resting upon his head, his voice carrying over the laughs of the other twelve people in the room. "We're both stood there, looking at each other, waiting for the other to make the first move. So, for lack of a better idea I just turn around and say; Ladies first!"

"Oh god, you didn't...!" Noel Collins covered his mouth, trying his best not to show how much he was laughing. Despite the usual problems that he had with this time of year, it had progressively gotten better the past few years. This year specially had been pretty good, all things considered, so even he couldn't hide behind a bad mood forever.

"It was the politest fight in history!" Llareness Morath chimed in at this point, putting her bottle of beer on the table and holding up her own hand for emphasis. "I felt like I was missing some sort of etiquette training! Punches before kicks, except after headlocks or something!"

"I'm totally setting that up as a thing!" Robert Candide called, pointing at the pink-haired woman with a grin splitting his face. "I am head-master Candide and today we shall learn the etiquette of the street fight!" He said, grabbing at his t-shirt as if it were the lapels of a suit jacket and standing upon the sofa. "Lesson one; in a street fight you need not have a street! A bar, a club, a school room, a funeral, such a thing need not be on the street to be a street fight!" He mocked, throwing a finger into the air and forcing his voice in to the stuffiest of high-brow accents he could muster, occasionally blowing out his cheeks to make himself sound more like a University of Oxford lecturer rather than a man of twenty four.

"Permission to be excused from class!" Sophie Mathews, her bright red lips curling in to a laugh as she raised a hand. Her other hand rested on her stomach, which sat rather uncomfortably distended in front of her. Then again, she was expecting her firstborn.

"Permission granted on grounds of chocolate cake! I shall be needing an extra slice at dinner tomorrow." Rob responded, before being dragged back down in to his seat by the one that had to put up with the fact Rob was doing an oxford accent. This was Tim Drake, a young man of equal physical age but the rough cynical age of forty two.

"Isn't that bribery?" Tim asked, not even bothering to hide the smirk that came across his lips.

"In my current state I'd rather lose the cake than have to take a class sold as Kidney Punches 101. They get enough of a pounding as it is." She laughed, though a groan escaped her lips as she adjusted her seating a little; her passenger had woken up. A blonde woman looked out from next to Llareness and raised an eyebrow at the young brunette.

"...I don't think you would," Tara Markov said with a slight mock in her voice but a warm and genuine smile in her face. One or two of the others in the room paused and looked between the two to see if there was a reaction or not, perhaps something more violent, or-

"...No, you're right, I'd take the cake and be damned to the corrupt system!" Sophie responded, shaking her fist in the air. "Revolution! Save the cake from the fat cats in education!"

"Revolution!" Tara joined her, promptly by about five others of the group that sat around in the U shaped sofa. A strange looking man looked between Sophie and Tara for a moment, before prodding a sharp finger in to the mother-to-be's arm as delicately as he could.

"Ow! What was that for?" She demanded, rubbing her arm. Doctor Nigel Hastings shrugged and looked back and forth.

"What did you do with the real Tara?" He asked, his voice like listening Christopher Lee in gravel polisher, but he had lost most of his accent a while ago. He was smiling, but he couldn't help but ask either considering their history.

"This is Most Unorthodox! Rubarb-rubarb-rubarb!" Rob's muffled sounding words cut the doctor off as he stood up, grabbing his make-shift lapels again, only to be promptly have generic foodstuffs be thrown at him.

"_SHHHH!_ Pipe down, will ya? You'll wake 'im."

Rob cringed apologetically, glancing at the couple next to him. It had been the blonde with thick-rimmed glasses who spoke, all English-accents and hisses, but the man next to her, with dark hair and blonde highlights, was the one that continued:

"Learn from this, Soph," Adam Mathews, no blood relation to Sophie surprisingly, smiled, "That tone, her expression and the eyes that promise agony to those that defy her commands. Mimic it enough and you can probably order those kidney punches to stop."

"Forgive me, friend, but I don't think that that would carry over to Sophie's situation." Kory Anders smiled, pulling a lock of hair behind her ear. Half the women in that room would kill for Kory's hair, which was waist length and a glossy red, but all of them would want her smile which seemed to illuminate the room.

"If anything, I think it's a fine example of abuse of totally-unfair-female power. Isn't that Ryce?" Rob smirked, turning to the young blond next to Adam.

"Hm?" Alaryce Fionnabhair McBride Gallagher muttered distractedly, looking up from the compartment in her cybernetic arm. "D'you say sumthing?"

"Case in point," Rob replied.

"Objection! I move that calling on her like that should be considered cruel and highly unusual!" Garfield Logan laughed, pointing at Gauntlet.

"I move that you don't know which direction we're moving in!" Rob piped up, pointing at Gar with the same joking, accusatory, tone.

"I move that Noel should move out of his chair and give it to me!" Nigel shouted in triumph, pointing a rather sharp finger at the white haired young man, who promptly yelled in frustration. Vic, Sophie, Rob, Gar and Tara all raised their hands in hushed cheer as if they had just won a prize.

"That bloody trial! Talk about a miscarriage of justice!" He groused, folding his arms and slouching on the sofa. "I should have veto'd remembering that night." He grumbled, muttering under his breath.

"And tonight we're playing Six Degrees of Noel's sanity." Llareness said, with a cruel, but mirth-filled, smirk on her dark lips.

"All we needed to do was pick a punishment! It wasn't like I was going to get you to build the targ-ma-freakin'-hall! I mean I was just going to make you go and explain it to Wally or something." He said, rather weakly, before folding his arms and seemingly sulking again; unfortunately he as gaining sympathy from exactly no-one around that table. "Leaders are never appreciated in their time." He muttered.

"Yes dear, you were in the right. Now stop sulking." The last person who was sat at the table commented, looking rather disinterested by the whole situation as she raised a steaming cup of herbal tea to her lips. Raven, also known as Rachael Roth on her driving licence, offered a grin was a ghost in comparison to the others, but it was still there.

"Yes dear." Noel replied, shuffling his body up the sofa, but still with arms folded. He looked paternally ridiculous, but this was the first time in, well, ever when it was the season for giving and he wasn't actually annoyed.

"…No, seriously, I look away for five minutes and suddenly we're in an episode of _Judge Judy_?" Ryce asked her significant other, blinking.

"Eh, politics," Adam replied. "At least they're keeping it down now."

"Damn right they are," Ryce nodded with a bit of a growl, her eyes falling on her arm again with a fond smile.

About eight years ago the first five arrived at the tower and had teamed to fight crime and enjoy their lives as Metahuman heroes, calling themselves the Teen Titans. As time went on, their problems got bigger, as did their roster of teammates and friends. There were close to possibly sixty superheroes across the United States that held the rank of a Titan, and held it proudly with good reason. They did what they could, defended those that needed it, and lived as much of their lives as they could manage but never compromised their principles.

As the group lost the Teen but kept the Titans they had gained worldwide recognition; they had defeated foes that sported the powers of the old gods, men and women that were some of the best soldiers and assassins in their respective fields, had strengthened relations with other countries and alien cultures and, more than once, saved their city from being wiped off the map.

Out of the legion that held the round, T-emblazoned communicators, only the thirteen that sat at the table had ever called the tower their Home. Other states had towers, with heroes. There were two main towers, one in Jump City, Florida and the other in Steel City, California but there were rumoured to be so many more; Arkham Massachusetts, Winterfield North Dakota, Fort Hope Texas, were all rumoured to have a tower but they were more low-key. There was also a group just off the coast of America in an old aircraft Carrier where they've converted the bridge in to a T shape. There were so many now...

But these few here, the five that started it and the eight that had joined them in their home, they were the big names. Admittedly one started as a live-in and became a Titan before promptly retiring for very good reasons, another's status was always shrouded in ambiguity, and yet another wasn't a Titan at all; she just helped around the tower, and for her efforts was considered a big help.

But after all they had done, and after every hero they helped, every villain they had stopped and every wrong they had righted, more came for them...and then, after they finally defeated a thorn that had been in their side for six years, at least, the problems started to ebb away. Criminals knew not to come to the cities that had the T shaped towers. They left "Vil-Signs", urban villain code, for other super-criminals. If they walked in to town and there was a T scrawled somewhere at the bus terminal or the gas station, they knew to gas up or get the next ticket out of town. Oh sure, there would always be the phony tough and the crazy brave that would give it a go; some up-and-comer that would step up to the plate and try to take on the might of the Titans, only for them to be shown why those signs were in place.

Still, things had been rather quiet, but that wasn't a bad thing, it meant they could have lives beyond the mask, it meant they could be human…the aliens not included, of course.

Cyborg rubbed his human eye with a thumb as he pushed a tear from it, his laughter dying down as he leant back. As funny as watching Noel follow the instructions of his significant other was, he knew that only a handful of the people around the table could actually point and laugh at it; most of those that could were devoted to their girlfriends.

"Whooo-Man, our luck never changed did it?" He said, ending his sentence with a chuckle.

"Oh yeah, December was great!" Morgue said, adjusting her seat to accommodate her passenger. "I had a great time, I don't know about you." Her voice was filled with sarcasm, but there was still a light hearted tone to it. Starfire looked over to her, raising a brow. "I'm fine, Kory, really. I'm just glad you guys were okay; I was worried sick about what was going to you guys." She laughed, before offering an oof from where she sat.

"Sophie?" Scalpel asked, looking at his very expectant significant other with a little bit of concern. "Is...er..."

"I'm fine." She said, patting the back of his metallic hand. "And no, it's not. She's just woken up, is all, and kicked me straight in the kidney." She looked very disapproving at her own stomach for a moment, placing her hands on her hips.

"Tone and expression. Just sayin'," Met piped in.

"No," Sophie replied flatly.

The boy paused and tilted his head at her, blinking. "That was a _perfect _first attempt. Astounding."

"Success," Gauntlet grinned, holding up a hand. Nothing happened for several seconds, and then Metatron rolled his eyes good-naturedly, slapping it in a classic high five.

Ignoring them, Kory knelt in front of Sophie, wagging a finger at her pregnant bump.

"V'sal! Don't attack your mother! That is not nice!"

"I don't think she can hear you in there." Jinx hazarded, raising her beer bottle to her lips and taking a generous pull. The stuff she was drinking might as well have been water, but it was better to get a friendly buzz than be roaring drunk. You might have a night to remember on roaring drunk, but more likely than not you either didn't remember it the next day or didn't want to remember it.

"The point of the exercise is that we do not know if we do not try!" Kory said, trying to contrive to look offended and failing, miserably. She folded her arms and pouted in a rather comedic fashion and was, as Noel was, given as little sympathy as possible.

"Didn't work before," Ryce pointed out to Star with a rueful chuckle, while staring at the former-villainess and grumbling, "do you _have _to do that in front of me?" she asked, sipping her apple juice.

Llareness spared her a wicked leer, but tipped the beer back, looking to Sophie, "When are you actually due, anyway? You seem to have been pregnant forever."

"You weren't here before," Noel said with a shudder. "It was twice as bad."

Sophie looked a little shy about the topic turning her in to the centre of attention. It was a strange phenomenon that a pregnant woman commanded the attention of a room, just by their mere presence, but she still didn't like it.

"Well, I'm not sure. I've been a little distracted and haven't kept count as readily. Somewhen soon I think." She said, patting her stomach and nodding. Nigel seemed to raise a brow in confusion as she looked at her, though no-one brought it up. "It'll happen when it happens." Her face glowed with a blush. Llareness felt her teeth start to get cavities from how sweet the situation seemed, but she shook it out of her mind. As long as she was happy, that's all fine.

Ryce coughed delicately, which instantly sent massive alarms in the heads of anyone that knew her.

"She's technically overdue by this point, actually." She said. Nigel's expression was a mask of absolute bewilderment.

"No, she's not," he said, matter-of-factly, as disbelief entered his voice. Sophie's glances looked between Ryce and Scalpel, her eyes narrowing, as her big brain started to work over the issue.

Ryce raised an amused eyebrow, her faded eye glimmering quietly. "_Really?_ You're going to doubt _my _word on matters of life cycles?"

"Hey…she _is_…It's been nine months! Over, in fact…" Sophie said, tapping her chin as her one cloudy eye seemed to focus on the air for a moment as she concentrated. "If the, er, V'sal…?" She looked to Kory who gave a thumbs-up on the pronunciation. "If the V'sal was conceived before…well…then that means her nine months are up, and she has an extra week and…" She counted down in her head, tilting it to one side. "Two days to her name."

The room fell silent as they all turned to Sophie, their eyes as wide as saucers as they all realised she could give birth any day, any time, now. The only ones that weren't like that were Nigel and Kory, who both sat confused and turned to one another, offering a shrug of confusion, Ryce, who just chuckled, and Met, who was annoyingly unconcerned by most things.

Sophie blinked, her eyes matching the rest of the room, before they narrowed and she turned slowly, menacingly, towards Nigel. Nigel seemed to blink in confusion and offered a minor gulp. Her voice, when she spoke, might as well have been syrup with how smooth and sweet it seemed to be. Raven, however, knew that it was as hollow as an empty wine cask.

"Nigel, Sweetie…" She started, sounding soft and demure as she offered a, somewhat forced, smile on to her blood red lips. "…Be a dear and tell me, in your own lovely, almost melodic, words; how LONG a Blacktrinian woman is pregnant for?"

The alien's eyes now went wide as he seemed to look away from the love of his life. While attention was on them, Kory decided now might be a decent time to slip away unnoticed. Sophie's pale hand, unblemished by the sun, grabbed at the belt around Star's hour-glass middle and pulled her back over while she still stared at the alien doctor. Sometimes it was strange how she could just look at a person and watch them fold under her inquisitive look…

"Oh, well, it's…" He cleared his throat in to a clawed hand. "Difficult to say, I mean translating months there and here, well there's some difficulty and the fact you've complicated it with the phases of the moon and…"

"HAW!" Ryce snorted in a very unlady-like fashion, leaning against her beloved. "This conversation seems _painfully _familiar."

"At least no one's water broke this time," Met replied, holding her hand and leaning against her back.

"Nigel, my darling, light of my life-" The mortician started, not quite able to contain the shrill tone of panic that crept into her voice at her friend's words. Victor started to edge away from his friend. Survival instincts were apparently sparking off around the group as they started to move away. "-Humans are pregnant for Nine months, if that. Most of the time they give birth between the eighth and ninth marker." She smiled, reaching forward and patting him on his chest with her free hand; Starfire's hemline still caught in her rigid hand so she only had one. Star started to work at the belt as subtly as one could when they're currently held in a vice-grip. "Humans, generally, are not known for going over Nine-Months, it's why we call it Over-Due." Her voice was a singsong, wafting from delicate cord to simple notes.

"…It's more fun to be on this side," Ryce decided.

And then, Sophie's hand gripped the alien's shirt and yanked him forward. "To put it in your terms, that's four and a half Relka!"

"R'elkia…" Nigel corrected, meekly, about two inches from a face that was baring a pair of fangs nearly as big as his own. A few stifled laughs came from around the table, as well as more than one person covering their eyes as this was going to be messy; the same sort of messy when you respond rather too truthfully to the question of if a dress makes a person look fat.

"What. Ever. How long. Does your species. Gestate for?" She asked, her voice becoming a growl at the end of it.

The room went quiet, the crackling of the fire being forever pervasive. The squeak of leather echoed from under the occupants, as they shifted position.

"Er…Six…R'elkia."

Sophie let him go. She blinked a few times, her mind wrapping around the numbers as, one by one, the room's eyes collectively opened wider as they worked out the numbers in their heads.

"Six R'elkia." She said, her voice flat and it broke the silence.

"Yyeess." He replied, slipping off the sofa now that he was free of the grip and taking a few steps back.

"…Twelve months." She continued, sitting back in her chair and looking at her rather distended midsection as her daughter realized that Mommy was going to have an aneurism, and therefore should probably not kick her kidney again because Mommy already had a lot on her mind. She did stretch out, though, as despite the heavy dinner she was still very hungry. This caused Sophie to breath in slight discomfort and be brought back in to the real world.

"Nigel, give us the odds please." Noel said, his face becoming a serious mask as he turned to the doctor, who had managed to reach one of the doors and was being followed by the other Alien of their group. Her hands were up in the traditional sneaking pose, while her legs were coiled under her, flight aiding her in moving quietly.

"We got all the medicine on our trip; she'll be fine as far as we can tell." He waved his hands franticly at Noel while he spoke in a hushed whisper, though one finger reached for his lips to try and indicate that Noel should stay quiet and let them leave. "It's just I may have not…realised the timescale difference!" He said, the expression on his face being one of abject terror.

"Then why is Kory running?"

"I may have, also, not mentioned it to Sister Sophie, and…I may have, er, known of the difference in the time scale." She said, offering a shrug and a nervous laugh, her hand rubbing the back of her head.

Most people expected shouting at this point, though it wasn't the case.

"Noel, my dear friend, you are my friend aren't you?" She asked, her sweet, soft, singsong voice echoed again. She scooted closer to him and reached in to his jacket, pulling out a black box with one fluid motion and smiled, broadly. "Can I borrow this? Thanks, you are such a sweetheart." She continued to smile as she shifted to the front of the sofa cushion and, with a considered effort, stood up from the soft padding.

She turned to them her smile starting to look more manic as her day went on. "Oooohh Nigel? My darling Nigel and my dear, sweet, adopted Sister Kory!" Her voice slipped in to pure, red, malice as she held up the box and pressed a button on the side, which caused two prongs to spark and throw lightning from metallic spike to spike. That was because the box itself was a tazer, a working one designed to take down super criminals. "Let's go have a talk."

She stalked after them, at a slow but steady pace as the two aliens fled the room, shouting something akin to "RUN AWAY" in unison, Nigel's claws clanged down the corridor as Starfire just few to escape the mother-to-be, letting out a high pitched "Eek".

"No fair running! I can't run very well!" She called after them, picking up the pace a little and power-walking after them and out of sight.

Silence followed.

"…Well," Metatron finally said, sounding deeply impressed. "She learns so quickly."

Then Llareness failed to hold back a laugh, attempting to remain serious and only looking as if she were trying to get some toffee from the back of her mouth. This was followed closely by Gar as Terra bent over double silently. This then started a small wave of people all trying not to crack up laughing filling the empty space.

"This isn't funny, you know." Noel said; his expression rather frosty as he turned from one person to the next and offered them a look. It was the same look he offered to most when he was displeased, to the point that most just referred to it as The Look. As usual, he seemed to have a problem with them finding the lighter side to the situation, but it wasn't because they were laughing; a fundamental issue with Noel was that he had a problem with surprises. He didn't like surprises, and this was one was potentially a big one.

"Oh, no, no. We know, we-" Llareness tried not to laugh as she nodded towards Savior, her eyes closing and her face trying to take on a rather wooden, serious, expression. She had failed utterly, but she was trying at the very least. "-We are well aware. Yes."

"This is a serious situation, involving her health." Noel continued, sternly, as he turned away from her and to the next person in the line, who was bobbing his head like some sort of bobble-head toy.

"Oh, yes. No, I think we all get that." Cyborg nodded, placing his chin in-between thumb and forefinger as he nodded, gravely, still not quite managing to run the smirk off his face. His lips pursed as he fought the laugh inside.

"She's emotionally unstable at the moment due to her hormones and other alien hormones that are flowing through her system." Noel said, starting to lose ground as he slowly realised that once again he was in the minority. "This could damage her quite severally, or worse."

"Ugh..._you_ are not lecturin' _**me**_ on this particular subject, Noel. Her...well they aren't married but-" Ryce started, rubbing at her dead eye with a finger as her face screwed up to find the right words. Even as she found them she was glancing back to her left arm and the tiny green light there. "Her might-as-well-be Husband s'an alien doctor! He said that he got the medicine and he's got it all in hand."

"Except that he didn't take in to account the difference-" Noel started, before Robert stepped up and interrupted, raising a finger in to the air.

"Superheroes deal with a situation changing every single day! A bank robbery turned in to a high-speed chase, a cat being pulled out of a tree only for you to find that Mittens is a four hundred pound Bengal tiger, you being caught with your hand in the bank vault, all that." He smirked and placed a hand to his chest in a heartfelt, patriotic, manner. "And they both are, or were, heroes so they'll deal with it as it comes! And we'll be there to point and laugh all along the way, er, I mean be supportive! Yeah..."

"Perhaps we should go after them?" Noel turned away, almost blanking Gauntlet's mad ramblings, as he looked to the door that they had disappeared through.

"Don't worry, Noel, she isn't going to harm them. Just put the fear of god in to them." Raven said, patting Noel on shoulder as she raised a tea to her lips. He could feel him starting to return to a sulk; she had to reassure him…but considering what she had learned about herself recently she had to wonder how much she had to carry.

"She better do it quietly," Ryce grumbled, straightening up suddenly to check her arm.

"Nigel will be fine…even if he's more scared of her than most of the things we've faced." Tara commented, hooking her legs up under her as she leant back on the sofa, resting her elbow on the black leather and her head in her palm.

"Dude, I've never see him so scared! Who knew he had a scared face?" Garfield laughed, reaching forward to the table and refilling a glass of wine from a bottle, ignoring the pained look of longing their maid was giving his glass. "I feel like I just watched something that went down in to myth!"

"I've seen it before." Noel said as he, too, leant forward and took up a mini-yule log from a packet. His tone was not joyful, but at least he was starting to lighten up; much to Raven's relief.

"Same; it was during the first run-in we had Halloween." Cyborg commented, shaking his head despondently. The group, on cue and en-masse, shuddered and looked at one another. Each and every one of them had lived through the monstrous Halloweens that had plagued them for the last few years.

The room was brought low by the collective memories of the horror and the problems that had plagued them over the years, the scars that they had obtained, the issues that they had gone through. They had been through so much for so many, and they had mostly gained scars for their troubles. Llareness ran a hand down her thick thigh, where the girls knew there was a scar. Even Ryce raised a hand to her dead eye, rubbing it, glancing across the room where they hadn't ever been completely able to remove a faint burn mark on the floor.

This needed to stop.

"I saw his expression when he was told he was going to be a father." Raven spoke, cutting the silence that had been growing from mentioning Halloween. Her tone was, considering who she was, cheerful and contemplative. "That's the most scared I've ever seen him; he became as white as one of Noel's jackets."

"No one can go that white." Vic said, nudging Noel in the arm and laughing a rich, deep, baritone laugh as if on cue. It was almost as if he was picking up the subtle hint that the others were slowly grasping; they didn't need to think of the horror; they were having fun and enjoying themselves.

"I'm not surprised Nigel freaked a little!" Llareness replied with a healthy laugh of her own. "I'd be petrified if someone told me I'd be a parent!" Raven nodded, as did nearly all the other girls and most of the guys, in total agreement with the hex wielder.

"It'd never happen." Noel said, crossing one leg over the other, resting his ankle on his other knee, as he turned to her. "You'd have to give up beer for nine months." Llareness looked at the bottle in her hand, then raised a brow and looked to Noel.

"Screw that." She simply said with a shrug and took a swig from the bottle. A few chuckles escaped the others as the general level of jocularity raised itself back up to their fun little stories. They continued to tell tales, for a while; recounting encounters with other heroes, their various attempts to obtain the lasso of truth from under Wonder Woman's nose, one of the few, and very brief, encounters with Superman and Batman.

Despite the fact they had saved the world countless times, and their city more times than they could count, for some reason the Justice League still looked at them as if they were bush-league heroes. There was just no pleasing some people.

Sophie re-entered the room, her face crimson as small beads of sweat roll down from her temple and around her soft cheek. In one hand she had Nigel, being pulled by the collar of his shirt, and in the other she had Kory by the hem-line of her top. It might have been indecent if Kory had not worn a rather modest sports-style bra under it. The tazer had been dropped somewhere along the way, but that wasn't so much of an issue as Noel was pretty sure he'd be able to find it…so long as it hadn't landed in Gauntlet's room. If that had happened there was no hope; it was worse than Beast Boy's used to be.

"We kept it quiet," Sophie assured Ryce before she could even open her mouth.

Sophie sat, heavily, upon the sofa and took one final breath as both the aliens stood behind her, nervously playing with their claws and long hair respectively. The, somewhat justified, annoyance had settled and she was back to her calm, loving, exterior…mostly.

"They've agreed…" Sophie took another breath, mopping her forehead with her sleeve arm. "To make up for their lack of communication…" She shot a glare from one to the other, who both laughed nervously and disappeared off in to the kitchen. "That they'll get me anything I need over the next three months, regardless of what actually happens. After all, we have no idea what'll happen at this point." The last part was said through gritted teeth as a fresh mug of hot chocolate was placed in to her hands by slender orange fingers.

She paused and looked at the hot chocolate, expectantly; before another orange hand reached out and placed a few marshmallows into the broth and finished it all off with a healthy helping of whipped cream. Sophie smiled in approval and took a sip. There was a slight crash from the kitchen and two people, speaking alien languages, said sorry.

"So you think it'll take another three months?" Adam asked with a healthy smile. He cared deeply for Sophie, not in a romantic way but a platonic way; he had watched her grow from a shy, retiring mouse in to a woman of confidence. She was always self-reliant, and now she was able to believe in herself and was calm, collected, and used her great intellect to even greater use without the worries and panics of others.

"No; as far as we can work out the V'sal will arrive when it does, but it'll be between now and then. It could be tomorrow, because I'm human, or it could be in another…" She gulped a little, resetting her confident expression. "…Three…months, of this because of Nigel." A small look was cast to the alien who was stood in the kitchen. "We will just have to wait and see."

"So, as we're telling stories, what did everyone actually get up to this December?" Tim asked, reaching forward and grabbing at the table snacks. He wanted to move the topic away from the rather hormonally-unbalanced woman, a degree, not just for the group's sake but for hers as well. He was more than familiar that she had gained in confidence; still she wasn't one to be placed at the centre of a group, yet. By now at least he had a lot of practice with topic changes of this sort.

"Well, you know where me and Kory went." Nigel said, after fetching his significant other a bowl of ice cream; as far as most people could tell it was the chocolate Neapolitan that Llareness had brought for her midnight ice-cream sessions. The pink witch would have argued, but decided against courting with the wrath of Sophie. Besides, she needed it more; the dull ache still present in Llareness' thighs told her that much, and all that nonsense was a week ago!

"Kory and I." Savior corrected, his sense of grammar hurting sometimes when either of the aliens spoke. It had been something he had put up with for years, and he would continue to do so, to try and at least teach them the correct sentence structure. He had made it his mission to make them speak fluent English, and while both had lost their respective accents, there were still the finer points to consider.

"No, it was I and Nigel that went to space, friend Noel." Kory responded. Noel rested his fingers lightly against his brow, before breathing out a deep, rumbling sigh. That's the problem when you use some shortcuts or learned a language from a completely alien syntax; grammar was the victim, and shortcuts rarely taught you things with cultural meaning. He heard someone mutter 'grammar nazi' and chose to ignore it.

He looked back up at them. "Never mind, so…anyway…" He groused, getting a sharp look from his other half, to whom he was grateful enough for the prod that told him he was being a grump.

"Actually, a few of us don't know where you went." Terra said, raising a hand in confusion as she looked around for some unity in the other faces of the group. Llareness nodded in agreement, as did Gar and Gauntlet. Cyborg shrugged, rather indifferently as his thumb flicked the cap off of a bottle with a familiar hiss.

"Could only have been one of two places." He said, taking another pull from a beer bottle he had in hand. It'd be his only one, for the most part; with only limited organic components left he had very little in the way of, for lack of a better description, space for the alcohol to go to. It would filter in to his blood stream, but as his cardiovascular system was severely limited in comparison to most people, the alcohol to blood ratio was much higher. This one bottle probably would mean he couldn't drive for a good few hours.

"We went to Space." Nigel supplied, checking to see if he could sit down. Given a nod from Sophie, though her expression wore a sentence as he finally scooted back a bit; yes you can, for now.

Those in the room that were ignorant of the Aliens' destination, which was most of them come to think on it, had a myriad of reactions.

"Dude! You went to space and didn't take me?!" Gauntlet asked as he pointed to the two aliens, his voice carrying an edge of slighted honour that would make most want to apologise and do what they could to make recompense.

"HE JUST WANTED TO GO INTO SPACCCCCEEEE...!" Gar, Tara and Adam all shouted at the same time, raising their hands into the air and catching more than a few of the rest of the group off guard. From where she was sitting next to Adam, Ryce began to hiss a silencing gesture at them all, eyes darting back to her arm once more. This promptly fell in to fits of giggles, guilty ones in Met's case. While the reference wasn't that funny, tonight had been a silly enough night for everyone else to just join in.

"...I don't get it." Noel commented, under his breath. Cyborg leant a little closer and placed a hand to cover his mouth in a conspiratorial way.

"It's a video-game reference; an old one." He whispered. Noel nodded in...not so much understanding but in less ignorance than he had been in before. It was going to be one of those nights, he knew that much.

"Well, yes; we couldn't take any humans." Nigel replied, scratching at the side of his face as he looked around the group. "Regardless of actual appearance." The slightly weirder looking humans in the group grumbled, making rather disapproving noises as Gar turned in to an actual grouse and started making a rather unpleasant noise from his perch next to his Geokenetic girlfriend.

"What part of '_shhhhh'_ aren't you gettin', Gar." Ryce hissed again and made to throw a couch pillow at the shifter.

"My family, please." Kory interceded, raising both of her hands in the defence of the other star-born entity in the room. "He is completely correct, we could not take any of you with us because there were no humans in that part of space; besides considering who we were dealing with it would not have looked good to have you with us Rob."

"Okay, maybe my hair made me infertile to Tamaranians, but Blacktrinians and other races won't have that problem so I might have been able to make it with an awesome alien chick!" He said, standing up and placing his hands on his hips, posing as if he was on the cover of some form of pulp-era space comic.

Ryce rolled her eyes, and raised a brow at him, "Don't you already have one of those?"

"I'm still half convinced I made her up to stop me going mad." Rob joked, offering a blushing smile.

"And here I thought his species were considered ugly here." Noel said under his breath as he raised a glass to his lips, taking in a little bit of Christmas cheer to offset his lack of general Christmas cheer.

"I'm kinda going on the hopes of the Klingon thing; their women are hot because of their slightly rough nature." Rob said, raising a finger to emphasise his point. "Besides, I saw a picture of Nigel's cousin! She's got a figure I wouldn't kick out of bed!" Gauntlet said, miming a curvaceous figure of what you would get if you put Jinx's hips on Starfire's body.

"In my culture, blondes are considered bad luck and people wouldn't want to go near you." Nigel said, rather more bluntly than perhaps he had needed to, but the comments about his cousin had rubbed him the wrong way.

A cricket seemed to chirp in the distance.

"...Dude, you've got to be kidding me." Gauntlet deflated, almost visibly. Terra looked a little surprised and curled her hair around her fingers, looking at the bright blonde locks in comparison to Rob's darker shade of blonde. "Is it just some sort of cruel, cosmic, joke that I happen to be the punch line of?" He asked.

"Jus' ignore me. M'not recordin' this for M'gann…tha's jus' silly," Ryce nodded before Met reached over and gently shut the panel on her arm.

"No blackmail at Christmas, Dear Wife," he said amusedly, before turning to Nigel, "and this doesn't bother you, I take it?" Ryce tugged at her own blonde hair, looking at it with an inspecting gaze through her good eye, before mentally conceding that his species might actually have a point. Nigel shrugged, rather lackadaisically.

"I don't believe in that sort of stuff; but then again considering my luck..." He narrowed his eyes and smirked, one hand absently scratching one of the innumerable scars on his chest.

"All of our luck!" Vic commented, pointing an accusatory finger at Tara, who turned away from the larger man and folded her arms, throwing her nose in to the air. "So we have YOU to blame! What do you have to say to that, Markov? If that's your real name!"

"You'll have to take it up with my attorney." She said, putting on a haughty voice and raising on hand to her chest in a rather superior manner.

"My client has no comment, at this time." Beastboy commented, leaning around her and pointing at his best friend with a finger. "We'll see you in Court." Terra nodded, making a satisfactory humph in her throat as her nose tried to almost touch the ceiling.

"Again with _Judge Judy?_" Adam blinked, miming that he was holding a microphone and placing a hand to his ear. "Alright then, I'll play: You heard it here first, folks. Back to the studio."

"Thank-you Adam." Gauntlet said, turning away from Metatron and to the rest of the group, waving his index finger around as if he was addressing a live studio audience on a Saturday Morning news and social topics show. "A potential word shortage, well if that happens then this show is in major trouble. More on this topic and more about our earlier stories, including the bishop and the midget of old Oxford town, the adjustable Torso boy of Maine and Tim's receding hairline; all after these messages."

Ryce, during all this, had found a sign that had been discarded a few years previous and held it above her head at this point. The sign simply read "Applause." The rest of the group, save Noel due to his overly serious point of view, applauded as Gauntlet and Metatron turned to one another and each mimed saying something and pretending to shuffle papers and such. Garfield had made his way to the dimmer switch and the lights lowered, before coming back on at their normal, dim, winter brightness.

Noel rolled his eyes and stood up, heading to the kitchen that was just to one side of the sofas. If he was going to deal with all of this he really needed to get some more coffee as he couldn't believe that most of these people, ranging from their late teens to their mid-twenties, were still playing around as if they were children. Tim just felt at his scalp, which still felt as full of hair today as it had in any part of his life. He knew it, but he couldn't help but check at all the same.

"But the butt of the celestial joke aside..." Terra said, turning back to Nigel and Kory. "...What were you doing in space?"

"Hm..." Nigel paused as he mulled over the memories of the previous few weeks, wondering if what happened in space should stay in space, much like what had happened when some of the Titans went to Vegas.

What happened at Vegas? No one knew; because it stayed in Vegas.

...Unless you were Ryce and Adam that is...but that was another story...

A thought did cross his mind though; he hadn't done anything wrong in space. He might have done one or two things that were almost, just about... by a very thin margin, _technically_ illegal, but then again, that was the flimsiest sort of illegal. "Alright, we'll tell you the story as long as you all pass on what happened to you all as well." He said, his clawed finger pointing from each Titan in turn. This should have been his get out of jail card.

It wasn't.

"Well, yeah, we never really got the full story of what happened with anyone this December; we've been all so busy we never did a full debrief." Robin commented, leaning back and relaxing. The group groaned; when it was said like that, it always sounded as if they were going to meet up around a table, open rather dull dossiers and give great, almost painful, details all the information that would be tactically relevant. Or at least it had when the super group ever actually debriefed, as it had been lead by Noel and he had wanted to do things correctly.

And correct, by Noel's standards, often meant boring.

So the team had refused to do so in the future, opting instead for telling rough details and the occasional tall-tale of them having defeated Bizzaro or Doomsday intermixed with stopping the smaller criminals that kicked around the city. No one was ever sure WHY Catwoman was supposedly helping the Amazing Mumbo, but then again most of Rob's reports ended in that way.

In one of them Gauntlet supposedly challenged God to an arm wrestling contest that finished after the end of the world in a draw. So yes; a pinch of salt the size of Montana would be needed to be employed upon occasion…And a few antacids for Noel to prevent him from having an ulcer.

"I think they're disagreeing with you, Fearless." Noel said, from the kitchen as he finished brewing his coffee. Even the smell of it allowed him to focus on something else other than some of the inanity that was being presented around him, even by the more competent men and women that filled the team. It was strange, to him that as soon as the heat was off they all fell out of the mindset that they needed to prep and train and prepare. This wasn't the case, but Noel wanted more sessions, harder lessons and just…more.

But then again the logical part of his brain countered this; after all they had given up their teen years so that the city would be safe. Isn't it time the city gave something back?

"Let's not call it a debriefing then;" Tim started, offering a smirk. "Let's call it a story telling challenge. Whoever has the best or the most interesting story is immune to the chores of the tower for two days of their choosing."

"Oh, you mean the chores none of you ever do and leave post its on my door 'bout? Those chores?" Ryce asked grumpily as her hand tried to subtly creep up the table towards the wine glass resting just right th-

"No." Noel said without even glancing her way, a shimmer strand flicking her sharply on the knuckle.

"Well you've all lost! We had the greatest adventure to date!" Rob stood, placing his foot on the table and thumbing to himself, Met and Ryce. "It had men, women, gods, Ryce locking herself in the car for an hour and a half, monsters, nihilists, drug lords, the Boson Higgs particle and a copy of our own DVD!"

"Yeah, or rather no-" Ryce held up a small hand in clarification as she looked to Gauntlet over the top of her glasses. "-It might not actually contain some, if any, of those elements."

"...You're sure?" Rob asked, somewhat dropped from his pedestal. "I'm pretty sure I punched Satan in the face."

"Well you were dreaming very vigorously on the trip." She replied, diplomatically with a chuckle as she leant over and patted the crestfallen hero on the shoulder. Her own other half, the half-demon Metatron, smirked and did likewise.

"Don't worry, buddy, if you want we can always go and try to punch-"

"No, no you don't." Raven said, leaning forward in her seat and placing a supportive hand on her knee. "No one, I mean NO ONE, can just randomly walks up to the Morning Star and punch him in the face. Even Etrigan doesn't do that, and you know what a, so called, character he is." She commented. If Met felt he wasn't half crazy, he might have picked up on the slight acid in her tone.

"What about Michael?" He asked. Metatron had placed a hand to his chin, rubbing it lightly as his eyes seemed to swivel upwards as if on some form of pivot "Pretty sure he laid it to the Morning Star good and proper when they last tussled."

"Uncle Michael kicked Aunt Lucy's ever lovin' arse," Ryce acknowledged.

"…The Arch-Angels?" Raven clarified. He nodded enthusiastically, as if he was trying to remember something. "Well…yes, I'll concede he does wander up and punch people in the face, but it's never random and he generally would win any encounter he involves himself in." She nodded, resting back against the chair. "He is the Arch-Angel of war, it's kind of his job to fight and generally win. There was a lot of celestial magic to make that so, I'd bet…" then she paused as if just processing something and glanced to Met's right, "…_**Aunt**__?_"

Ryce…just gave her a decidedly unnerving smile and sipped her juice.

"…B-Besides, I wasn't talking about the Morning Star, I was talking about Satan; you know the Jewish angel of trickery that was used to test the faith of others?" He said, leaning a little closer to Raven.

"Oh yes, you're quite right." Raven sighed and rubbed her forehead as she attempted to clear her thoughts. The emotions and feelings coming from the group fell from them in waves as they banded around ideas and thoughts. She, like Noel and Tim, felt like she was an adult in a room full of children, sometimes doubly so with the generalised insanity of Met and his mate, the jovial nature of Beast Boy and Gauntlet and Sophie's unfortunate mood-swings making her act like she's having a tantrum every so often.

She felt like a mother and part of her, a deep down part that she didn't want to pay attention to, said she might actually like it. Her time with the three super-powered tots had warmed some of the more icy parts of her heart to the idea of it, but still…She reminded herself to crush her own hormones like the vile, treacherous, beasts that they were at a later date. She had far too much on her mind at the moment.

"So; who wants to start?" Cyborg's words cut through the disorder of Raven's thoughts as she looked up. She didn't want to tell her story, she didn't want to tell the end of it but she doubted that she and Robin, two of the most prominent members of the entire group, would be able to get away with saying nothing.

"Well, I say we start with whoever left first!" Rob jumped up and posed, again, thumbing at his own chest as if he was introducing himself to a new villain. Gauntlet's snappy jokes and devil-may-care attitude had actually made him a slight media darling over the years, as people enjoyed his happy-go-lucky attitude. Even the Titans had been happy with this as he had a distinct talent for saying nothing for hours and hours, and it allowed Titans such as Noel and Nigel to avoid the camera as much as possible.

"Chronologically?" Tim said, as Kory reached down and hugged him tightly from behind. "That seems pretty fair, as we're telling a timeline." He said, almost trailing off, as he could smell Kory's hair from where he sat. He felt his cheeks warm, but he couldn't help it.

"…The Pheromone increase s'a lil creepy, Tim."

"…So is COMMENTING on it, Alaryce."

"Alright! SO there we were; travelling through space and time, when suddenly-" Gauntlet began, placing a foot on the table with a heavy thud, accompanied by the slight jump of glasses, bottles and plates. A myriad of hands rushed forward and grabbed at some of the bottles and glasses to make sure their content didn't end up on the floor and, more importantly, not in their stomachs.

"I will go eldritch on your scrawny arse if don't be quiet, Robbie" Ryce hissed, her humour all but gone as her tail slashed the air behind her.

"Hold on, Rob." Cyborg held up a hand, his inner calendar clicking over in his head. "When did you guys leave?"

"The fifth, I think." He turned and looked at the angelic/demonic couple, who both nodded in unison as if they were some sort of creepy marionette show, albeit one much more angrily than the other. He felt himself shudder a little but resisted the urge to point at them and scream something about living dead dolls. Mostly because he really half-believed his close friend would make good on her threat of going a touch Lovecrafty on him if he woke him up.

"Kory and Nigel left on the first." He said, turning his red optic on to them with a smirk. Both suddenly looked a little uncertain of themselves.

"I'm pretty sure you don't want to hear our-" Kory started, waving it away with mock-confidence and humility as she almost tried to hide behind her long term boyfriend.

"I mean it was not really anything, it was a milk-run, if that." Nigel almost mimicked her actions, but unlike her he had no one to hide behind so he just sat with a false face, trying to make the entire situation as boring as possible.

"Ahuh." The group said, almost on mass, with accompaniments of "Yeah right" and "Of course it was". All in all, Kory and Nigel got the distinct impression that they didn't believe them.

"You'll be bored." Nigel tried, once more attempting the blunt approach that he had used on Gauntlet, though unlike before his cold and quite malevolent self-assurance was ebbing away from him like a small boat on a fast river.

"It's in space. Everything in space is about seventeen times bigger than on earth, so even the dull bits will seem like an adventure." Noel said as even he joined in with the collective group activity of needling the two alien warriors. Raven noted this with a smile, as it seemed that even he had started to improve.

Tim stood up from Kory's grasp and took her hands. She was still floating, still flying, and so lifting her up and over the sofa to sit next to Nigel was no great feat. The pair gulped as they looked at one another, the collective eyes of the group fell upon them.

"We're not getting out of this are we?" The doctor asked.

"Nope." Tim responded, tugging up the sleeves on his red turtleneck sweater.

"And we can not get away with just the fact we were successful?" The princess enquired, looking at them all in turn.

"No." Tim said again, sitting himself down next to Kory, having waved at the rest of the group next to her to budge up a little and make space; there was plenty of it.

The two aliens sighed as they picked up their respective drinks and took a sip that was so in time you would have thought they might have practiced it. Placing them back down on the table with a thud, they took another sigh.

"Our story begins on December First…" Star started, her soft tones wafting over the group as they all leaned in to listen, intently.

This was going to be a good day, indeed.


	2. Milk Run - Day 1

**Chapter 2: Milk Run - Day 1**

((Big thanks for TerRaine and Sloth for all the help editing this chapter, the previous one and as many chapters to come as they can stand! Thank-you!))

* * *

December 1st, 6:45am

The tower seemed quite quiet as the other Titans continued to go about their duties with as much diligence and forethought as one might expect at nearly seven in the morning; none what-so-ever.

Well that wasn't strictly true; with the exception of Robin doing some early morning practices outside on the island itself, the garage seemed to be buzzing with the electronic noises of small machines, all running through final checks and balances as three people stood and waited.

"I'd rather you didn't have to go, for obvious reasons." Sophie commented, wrapping her dark dressing gown around her person a little tighter. It wasn't the easiest task in the world, given her current condition, but she had given it the good college try non-the-less. Only a sliver of black silk pajamas would be seen at the apex of her stomach. "But then again if wishes were fishes..."

"...Everyone would ride, I'm aware." He said, offering a shrug as Sophie groaned. Once more, with the mixing of metaphors, the doctor boldly ran. "And I know you want me to stay, but there are just some things that we can't get here. I, also, wish this was not the case but we need these things." He couldn't help but try to sound reassuring.

As much as Sophie was desperate to be mad at him, he had a point.

After the elation of being able to carry a hybrid child subsided, Sophie and Nigel both sat down and started to figure out what was needed to make sure that child could grow up happy and energetic in this new world. The list continued to get longer and longer as the soon-to-be-Mother Titan was growing larger.

After they had finished volume one, the young couple had decided to slim down the list to what was actually needed and not what could be needed, at some point, in the future…maybe. The first thing was gravity weights, which could and would mimic the weight of a set value of G's for one person. Nigel had a set for himself so that he could occasionally set it to Blacktrinia Prime normal, which in earth terms was 3G's; it was unhealthy to go too long without your own natural gravity for anyone, let alone a fragile, always developing, baby.

While he might be able to find the gravity weights on earth, he knew that several items on the list would never be in the corner store. This was of course unless the Empire decided to conquer earth, but the chance of that ever happening was relatively remote, not to mention more than relatively unwelcome considering his status.

One such necessity was specialist medicines for hybrid children, which has been developed some time ago. He remembered when they had hit the shelves some ten years back when he was waiting in the way station to be given his uniform. He was reading a medical magazine, a mere child at the time, who was burying his nose in any book that would save him from the horrors of war. He was now very glad they had a copy of it amongst the piles of weapon catalogues.

The last of Cyborg's machines bleeped and clicked as it gave the all clear; the ship was ready to go.

Nigel slipped a cloak around his shoulders, clasping it shut with a large, silver buckle. The material was thick and waxen, almost akin to hide. It covered his clothes quite well, especially given that it was a dark red shirt, a black jacket with no visible lapels, and simple black slacks; admittedly the slacks were tucked in to hide shin guards and the shirt was tucked in to hide forearm guards, but that's beside the point. His usual clothes were not being packed. That was simply because his usual clothes were based upon the Blacktrinian Medic's uniform, and he wanted to stand out as little as possible.

"And we couldn't send Tim or Noel because..." Sophie started, raising a brow at Nigel as he finished making sure he looked as if he was just another face in the crowd. He'd even cut and dyed his usually unruly, blue mane of hair into a neat, mid length, almost corporate cut and near jet-black. It wouldn't last a month, but at the very least he could wander around without too many people paying attention. Black, it would seem, was a very common hair colour.

"Because they wouldn't know what to look for, and humans are very, very, rare in space regardless of what the television says." He replied, as he stepped towards the ship in the hanger. It was the seemingly all purpose T-ship, which seemed to function as an aircraft, spacecraft and submarine...somehow. Nigel had never quite followed, though he had to admit his grasp of science wasn't quite as adept as his grasp of medicine; the body was a complex machine, but bodies generally worked on the principles of environment working upon them, much like physics was supposed to. He understood that about biology. Physics on the other hand, like magic, was supposed to work on a series of rules that were being imposed upon it, but just seemed to make it up as it went along. Quite frankly, it confused him.

The third person in the room, who had said very little up until this point, appeared from behind the t-ship. Having loaded a few things into the storage compartment and she offered a smile.

"You need not worry, Sister Sophie-" Starfire started, her voice was cheery but tired as she picked up a steaming mug from a workbench nearby. The mug read 'Favourite Alien Princess', and was her most treasured Christmas present from last year. "-He is in the best of hands. I swear to you that we shall be making the grand return!" Her tone was confident and it had put some of Sophie's worries at ease, however, there were still those thoughts that lay treacherously at the back of her mind. Coiled up, poisonous, thoughts that didn't seem to want to leave, no matter how much logic kicked at them.

The thought that he may never return was always there; now more than ever. She wasn't sure what she'd do if that happened; trapped on earth while he was trapped in the stars akin to some mortal representation of Gaia and Uranus, never allowed to be together because of the Atlas of someone else's plan.

_God_, she thought to herself, _being pregnant has made me sappier than ever. Before I know it I'll be wearing a wedding dress and crooning at windows, with candles, and writing really bad poetry._

Sophie gave a weak, and somewhat false, smile as she nodded and placed her hands onto the small of her back. Their child was getting far, far, too heavy to be just standing around.

"There's no way to talk you out of this?" She asked, a slight laugh entering into her voice. It seemed more akin to gallows humour than anything else, but it was the best she could muster.

"None." He responded, succinctly. "I have never run from a challenge, and I have little intention to do so now."

"Well there was Halloween when you met Jason..."

"Please. I do not wish to remember." Nigel's voice was leaden as he shook his head and smiled, walking close and placing his broad, clawed hands on her soft shoulders. "It will be okay. And I'll be back soon, I promise." He nodded, before bringing her close and holding her tightly. Even as he held her close, he felt the shift of weight in her belly, announcing that their daughter had just woken up inside her mother. He could never help but smile when he felt this, and it almost drove him to his knees each time.

"Alright, but if you're not back by Christmas, I'm going to space and kicking your ass." She said, pointing at his face with a smile. He nodded in kind and was given a goodbye kiss for his troubles. He then knelt down and pointed a clawed finger at Sophie's rather expansive middle as he rested his other hand upon it delicately.

"And you, don't you dare do anything until I get back or I will make you do sums during your summer vacation." Sophie winced as the child squirmed. While it was very magical in and of itself, the feeling of life forming and moving inside you, being to full term by human standards and premature by Blacktrinian standards caused the whole process to be uncomfortable. It didn't help that the baby felt like a "Fifteen pounder", as Ryce would say. She had been hoping that when she hit month eight that she'd be looking forward to being able to bend in the middle again soon, and be able to see her feet once more...only to hit month nine and to not even have a false contraction. She asked if this was normal and Nigel could only shrug. As far as he was aware there was no discernible evidence that a Human and a Blacktrinian had ever lain with one another before, let alone had a hybrid child.

Of course, the time-scale misunderstanding had yet to be fully realised. He was running on a whole bag of confused, hence another reason for the trip. He stood up and smiled, before strolling over to the T-ship and loading the last of his belongings on board.

Star approached her this time, and smiled broadly. "Do not be afraid, my adopted little sister, for I shall return your 'baby daddy' to you in a safe and secure state as soon as the time is possible." She hugged her across the shoulders, giving her a tight squeeze of reassurance.

Sophie returned it with a sigh and shake of her head, "Kory, PLEASE stop learning slang from Ryce."

Her own clothes were slightly different. Rather than the normal purple skirt and top that she had worn while on earth, she had changed it out for something slightly darker in shade. It was still of the traditional Tamaranean cut, but the light purple was now almost black, and the patches of skin were covered by an armoured under-layers. Her long, luxurious, hair was tied up tight and held back by a Tamaranean headdress.

Sophie would still kill for that hair, she thought to herself. "Come back soon, Star, we need our little sun to make the world bearable." She joked, smiling and giving the alien one last squeeze before letting her go. The alien nodded in agreement and patted Sophie's stomach before turning away.

And with that she, too, boarded the T-ship. A claw and a hand waved at Sophie as the bay doors opened, showing off that the sun had yet to completely rise over the horizon. The deep thrum of the ship's engines warming caused Sophie to cover her ears and take a few steps back.

The last few switches and checks were done inside the ship and with a nod from the co-pilot, Scalpel engaged the thrusters and took the craft out of the hanger and promptly started to head out of orbit. On the beach, Tim waved a languid hand to them as they departed. He and Star had said their goodbyes the night before, but he still wanted to be out early to wave them off.

Sophie watched them depart, with a sheen to her eyes and a warble in her voice. She knew in her heart that they'd look after each other; they were a family. It was the one thing that most other heroes and villains never understood about them; they cared too deeply for each other to ever leave one of their own behind.

Still, ice cream was very much the order of the day at this point; today was going to suck otherwise.

* * *

Of course things were going well enough. The transition from atmosphere to space was relatively easy. The trip was going well and actually becoming enjoyable. It was rare that Nigel and Kory ever really got to talk to each other, alien to alien. Of course Nigel, being rather introverted when it came to questions, and Kory, being rather extroverted when it came to answers, extended their talking time quite a lot due to this verbose/taciturn dynamic. Even that, however, only lasted a few hours before they grew comfortably quiet in each other's company.

On the way, the unusual pair stopped a few times as they decided that breaks as needed; not from each other, but from the fact that space flight was only marginally less boring than watching paint dry. The occasional asteroid meant that it had won out over Sunburst Yellow on a wall. Barely; It was a painfully close race.

It had taken them some time to reach their destination, with those few stops along the way just to stretch their legs. Not to mention, the occasional blindly furious shouting match over directions and what certain buttons on the t-ship do. Quarrels that reached the point of making people think the Tamaranean/Blacktrinian conflict had started all over again. Still, they had reached their destination in one piece, and that was a small blessing in and of itself, considering many of the dangers of space travel.

While earth was just far enough out of the way that most space faring people didn't really attend much, in the grand-scheme of things, some of space culture had started to crop up in the neighbouring systems. Built on the surface of a large, shelf-like, asteroid segment, was a series of tall greyish structures, designed to withstand impacts and bombardments. There was a holographic sign writ-large across the front of the main structure; Welcome to Anachrony Station.

Anachrony Station was named such because of its age, built back when a building had to withstand asteroids by sheer ablative plating alone, rather than high-tech energy shielding. However, the new owner, a prominent scrap baron known as Sklerk the Wise, didn't want the insides; he wanted the shell and the asteroid segment it resided on.

So he gutted it, replaced the old junk heap of a reactor with one that worked much more cleanly, replaced the insides of the large, greying, structures with pre-fabricated housing and store fronts, and had the entire thing towed to a way-point between various planets of intergalactic importance. He had installed energy shielding to compliment the massive armour plated outsides and rebuilt the hanger bay from scratch to accommodate visitors of all classes, from the poor, travelling merchant with a busted old cargo freighter, to the alien prince with a luxury, X-55 Hyper-thruster, sports shuttle.

Soon, people arrived out of curiosity, but started to settle on the station and created permanent homes and stores that people could trade with; that they knew would be there. This meant that those that had not set up a lasting base could trade with those that had and gain the old era quality of a familiar face to trade with, who in turn would trade to their customers for a fare and even price. Business rapport began to form. The entire structure became a self-contained economy, everyone trading off one another and doing business with the visitors who came in from the various different parts of space to buy their wares. All the while paying out a sum of cash to the top floor, where they then sent it off to the owner.

It was, for lack of a better term, a giant galactic shopping centre. And that's just exactly why so many beings liked it; they could get what they needed on one of the many floors and if they couldn't, it could always be ordered in.

As the T-ship touched down, there was already a mass of people milling around, examining ships and ticking off registers. As Nigel jumped out of the craft, he was forced to yell in his native tongue at a cluster of people that had tried to swamp the ship.

"You! Go away! Shoo! We don't want a valet service!" He yelled, making sweeping motions with his hands to encourage the beetle-like aliens with mops and buckets to move on to the next ship that was arriving in docks. Nigel noted that written on their backs, on the shell itself was the name of a astro-detailing company for cleaning and maintenance of space-ships.

As they scuttled on, Kory landed gracefully and gave him his hat. Unlike the broad-brimmed, bright red hat he usually wore, this one was much closer to an old, leather Shako without any real ornamentation. He smiled pleasantly, pulled his, temporarily, black hair back and stuffed it on his head.

"Excuse me, Sir, Madam." A voice called from their side where a man stood with a computer slate in hand, holding it like the clipboards of yesteryear. He was a small, red coloured man with large, flat, tendrils coming from his forehead and folding back behind him. Twitching his eyebrows caused them to raise and lower, as if they were antenna. Behind him swished a tail as he spoke. "Welcome to Anachrony Station; I am Administrator Fallwood. For the safety and security of our patrons, may I request a name and the serial number of your ship?" He pushed a pair of gold glasses further up a subtly lizard-like snout.

"You may take my name." Kory put on an air of superiority, standing up straight and placing her hands on her hips. She needed to do this; the less attention on Nigel the better. All it took was one person recognizing him to lead a lot of trouble for both of them. He had gained a lot of scars and a few years since the war, but only one of them was on his face, so hopefully the black hair and the changed demeanour would do. "I am Amand'r, and the ship is the T-S-H-1-P." She indicated the orange ship with a smile as she spoke in crystal-clear Galactic Common.

"Looks rather unique." He said, scratching it down on to the tablet with a protruding finger. He had said this with some confusion, but they were unsure if it was the good sort. The kind where he was just amazed, or the bad sort, where he had found something out he wasn't supposed to.

"It was a custom build." She returned, as if it was a matter of great pride.

"Very well, Miss Amand'r." He pressed a button and pulled from the tablet a small slip of paper. A snapping motion later and he handed it to her. "This is your docking number. The charge for stay is set up and we will take great care. We are nothing if not diligent for the discerning ladies in these parts." He grinned, it was sharp as if someone had crossed a crocodile smile with a human jaw line, though the intention was not menacing. Some species, Nigel knew, just had very sharp smiles.

"Friend." Nigel spoke, his common tongue coming out a bit more accented with a harsh, Germanic style edge, as Fallwood had turned to leave. A few Blacktrinian coins moved from claw to hand. "Keep people away from My Lady's ship, yes?" He put on a rougher overtone to the accent, making him sound much dumber and brusque than he was. It made him sound like a dim witted brute. The Administrator looked quite offended at the shining metal in his hand.

"Sir! I don't know what you think this place is, but this is a place of reputable business and we do not accept bribes to turn down-" The amount in his hand doubled. The administrator weighed it in his palm as the blocky, heavy, Blacktrinian currency clattered against itself.

"I didn't quite hear you." Nigel said, looking meaningfully at the Administrator, who paused.

"Why of course, sir! A bespoke service, that's what we provide at Anachrony Station!" It was his turn, now, to shoo away the beetle like creatures with the royal blue carapaces that had attempted to, once more, clamber on to the T-ship and wash the widows. "Your vehicle shall remain unmolested, and your lady shall find our service fit for the king of the Empire itself." He bowed to the two as they nodded in approval.

"See that it does." Nigel finished. He felt his stomach drop with the mention of the Emperor, but kept the act going nonetheless.

"Yes, of course, yes! And, my dear lady and her dutiful man, oh what is the phrase? May your suns be soft and your days be filled with the laughter of your loved ones." He said, managing to mangle two phrases together from both Tamaran and the Empire. Though, if you asked the Titans, they would never have been able to tell you which went where. The Administrator bustled off, talking to a few more people who had arrived next to them, with a fresh spring in his step.

"Won't that draw attention to us?" Kory asked, floating up as Nigel picked up the bags.

"Maybe, but it might also draw attention to us if we didn't." He shrugged, following after her with their luggage, playing up the part of manservant. "Besides, this way there won't be anyone playing around with the ship while we're inside. I don't want to come back to find the ignition computer has been cut out of the ship."

"You've got a point there." She commented, as they both spoke common as if it was a casual thing, unlike the blocky sounding earthen the two had a broken understanding of.

In the background, standing next to one of the men with clipboards, a man watched the departing pair with a certain interest.

* * *

"Wait a moment, wait a moment." Gauntlet said, holding up a hand and chuckling as he looked over to Nigel and Kory as they retold their story. Nigel ran a clawed hand through his, once again, blue hair. It hadn't returned to its normal length, but it always grew back slowly. "I thought the Empire won your little war…"

"For a start it wasn't little-" Kory said with some irritation, but even her most fierce irritation was almost tainted by the corruption of her kind heart. Rob regretted his choice of words almost instantly, but she held no grudge against him for a poor selection.

"And they didn't win, they drew. It was a tie, in earth language." Nigel responded, looking over at his friend.

"Okay, fair, so how come Kory wasn't your maid rather than you as her man-servant? Wouldn't that be more normal?" He asked, pointing between the two. For several people, there was a brief mental flash of the image of Kory in a rather fetching maid's uniform, before it was shaken out of their heads. The reason being that this was vastly too inappropriate to think that way of their long-term friend. The only four who did not were Robin and Kory, whose thoughts were allowed to travel that way, Sophie, whose hormones were forcing her to have a hard enough time ignoring certain urges and the mental picture kept cropping up, and Ryce who…well, was always inappropriate. This was a surprise to no one.

"Several reasons; one of which is that I was trying to be as unnoticeable as possible. If I have a servant, then I instantly am more recognizable in the crowd." Nigel said, scratching at his eyebrow, ignorant of the flush still on Sophie's face as she bit her own lip, before burying herself in to her hot chocolate again. "I am a deserter, remember? I'm not popular with my own people."

"Makes sense." Noel nodded as he remembered what few stories that he actually got out of Nigel about his life before coming to earth. Even after all these years, trying to get Nigel to open up about his time during the war was like trying to open a can of soup without a tin opener; next to impossible, but you might get a few trickles or drips out.

"The other reason," Kory started, sounding almost sage-like as she raised a finger. "Tamaran was the underdog in the war; I would be looked upon with favour to have a Blacktrinian Man-maid, rather than an overbearing Blacktrinian Bully with a Tamaranean maid." She nodded.

Sophie's face went bright and hot as the thoughts shifted from Star in that costume, to Nigel. Despite his appearance, she did find him sexually attractive, otherwise she wouldn't be in the condition she was in. She buried herself in to her hot chocolate again, trying to hide behind what little whipped cream and what few marshmallows were still there. Beside her, Ryce gave a chuckle and produced a can of whipped cream, topping her mug off.

"Aye, that doesn't get back to normal even in the months after, by the by."

"Yeah, well, trying not to think of it seems to make it worse." She whispered to Ryce, as she tried to think any thought that wasn't Nigel wearing practically nothing with increasingly little success. Raven blushed herself, feeling the emotions radiating from Sophie as if she was sat next to a radiator of sexually frustrated embarrassment.

"Why do you try and not?" Ryce whispered in to Sophie's ear, which caused her face to nearly melt the whipped cream in her mug.

"S-so anyway!" She and Sophie both said at the same time, with a similar stammer, in a hope to get back to the point. Ryce broke in to a snigger but controlled herself, just about.

"But why the disguise? Why not just grab some Holopins?" Rob jumped in again, pointing to Cyborg, before the aliens could continue their story. Met, meanwhile, tried not to laugh at the two blushing gothic belles.

"Want to cover this one?" Noel asked, patting the half-machine on the shoulder as a way to tag him into this conversation.

"Those things work here, but they give off a huge photonic signature. If we took them into place with extraterrestrial-grade sensor equipment they might be picked up straight away." He took a pull from the bottle and then pointed a finger at the alien man and woman. "At the moment they're just a Tamaranean and a Blacktrinian."

"Curse you logic, thou hast defeated me!" Rob lamented as we went back to lying down and listening.

"Please continue." Noel prompted.

* * *

As the two travelled through the crowded streets inside of the Asteroid, they ran through their head what they had worked out on the way. Star would play up the fact she was some sort of big-shot celebrity or aristocrat from Tamaran and Nigel would play the dumb brute that followed her as a bodyguard. They had booked a hotel room ahead of time under the false name that Kory had given out, and from there they'd get their supplies. At least, that was the plan, though as Noel would insist and as Nigel knew, plans rarely survived contact with anyone, let alone the enemy.

The streets were swamped with people; men and women from all species seemed to fill as much space as humanly, or in some cases inhumanly, possible. Organics, machines and other...things seemed to make walking across the street a challenge. Stores had people coming and going, some returning and some having decided that it was not in their wallet's best interest to spend their time there. Signs showed moving figures talking to the men and women that passed by, trying to get Kal'nak of Redmire V to come to the theatre and watch the great Blacktrinian tragedy of the Queen of Tears. The light, which was dim and high up, was supplemented with the street signs making the world feel as if they were in permanent, neon filled, dusk.

"This place must be the size of a city." Nigel said, as he followed the floating Kory down the street. A floating Tamaran woman, especially one that looked like Kory, tended to get audiences moving out of their way in awe. Nigel had the same effect for the opposite reason. "It is reminding me of the earth mall of shopping." He spoke. Star, looking somewhat amazed, turned around to him.

"The shopping mall?" She asked, her grasp of the common tongue much better than that of earthen English. Nigel's lack of an extensive education outside of medicine was starting to show through, as he hummed and harred for a spell.

"I think so?" He shrugged. His arms were laden with luggage, which caused the entire appearance bob up and then down as they continued to trudge through the street. He looked up at the sky, or rather the tall roof, which had a series of lights across a metallic racking for this floor. Even so, buildings the size of the T-Tower filled the enclosed space. Nigel's mind boggled. "Are you in remembering of where the building of rooms and sleep is? The name that it goes by?"

"...Did I really sound like that on earth?" She asked. Nigel paused, putting it through a filter. Many people asked how he had managed to speak English so well; they had often joked that it had been from television, and actually that was not too far from the truth. The Blacktrinians had obtained an earth probe, which contained in it their literature, their television and even some genetic samples. Taking this, and having done some rather...unfortunate experiments on the Tamaranean physiology, they had developed a sort of genetic memory translator. With a sample of flesh, or genetic memory, they could learn a language that was native to that creature. Nigel didn't quite understand it himself, but the general idea was that the memory of a certain language ran through the veins of a certain people as they had grown up with it and it had changed and evolved with them.

Nigel thought it was mostly bunk, but it worked so he wasn't going to complain.

The main problem with this was that galactic common...wasn't native to anyone. It was a made up language in its entirety, and made up from hundreds of cultures, all adding their two cents to make this traders language. It was a true melting pot of a language. It was originally known as Galactic Trader, but the traders moved so far and became so engrained in space faring culture that it had changed to Galactic Common.

Starfire's formal education, one that any royal of Tamaranean blood would expect, had allowed her many opportunities to leave her world and speak with enough people that she had become almost fluent. Scalpel's education consisted of his eight year old self being thrown into the under-funded medical training centre while every other kid was in command and leadership classes. He learned medicine for most of his life and galactic common became an afterthought when he needed to barter for goods and services for his home planet. Spirits knew none of those idiotic farm hands knew how to speak it.

"I think so, yes." He finally replied, having to translate it from Common, through Blacktrinian and into English, before heading all the way back again. She laughed a good-humoured chuckle that seemed to lighten the air. Nigel, meanwhile, was too busy looking over his shoulder. His eyes traced the crowd trying to see anyone looking at him, or rather anyone staring.

He was lucky that most people were paying attention to Star, and not to him. Still, he couldn't help but feel he was being watched.

"Calm yourself, my friend." Star reassured, still trying to appear aloof and detached. She couldn't help but want to aid the man; they had worked together for years and so she wanted to offer something to help keep down his personal paranoia. "While we could not wear the Holopins, we did what we could, and I assure you we will be fine."

"I hope so." He responded, lowly, as he pulled the peak of his shako hat down lower over his features to try and hide his bright blue eyes as they pushed their way through the crowd. More of the insect like beetles were cleaning and repairing a series of floating, rotating, signs that hovered in the air. The sign was for the Weaponite Arms Company. They specialised in mechanical bodyguards, considering that they themselves were synthetic life, and projectile weapons, considering that their form was based off earth weapons circa 1943. They were created, in part, by a progenitor race of such awesome technology that they had promptly wandered off because they were bored, and left the newly forged weapon people to their own devices. The Weaponites had, until recently, not been recognised as a sapient species, until one of them had managed to prove to the Galactic Coalition that they had achieved all the prerequisites of being proven to be alive. Nigel and Kory made it a point to get news feeds from the stars as often as possible.

"I wonder if Earther stations will be like this in the future." Nigel said, trying to think of anything to take his mind off the fact he was walking on very thin ice.

"I hope not." Star said, rubbing her jaw line with a slightly discomforted look. She could feel the fight of the gravity generators in the back of her teeth as she hovered in the air. "They need more trees, less metal deck flooring."

"At least it is not too much bright." He replied.

As they turned one last corner, they came across a towered building, its frontage was seemingly all glass, but as the tower grew higher there seemed to be larger, and larger, balconies until the top floor, which seemed to be all balcony giving it a strange tree like effect. The bottom level had ornate holo-windows which had noise suppressants and allowed you to look in, but not out and allowed large objects, such as thrown suitcases, to pass through but small things, such as rain, to be stopped.

On the insides, the holographic projectors made the windows look as if it were a bright day, or a clouded, rainy sky, or some other place entirely. Nigel had actually considered getting this for his room, so that on days where he wanted to, he could sit in a relaxing rainstorm without ruining his clothes and traipsing a trail of water in through the Tower, despite the fact the day outside was far too bright for him.

"The Pitor Hotel?" He asked, curiously, turning to Star as she seemed to be on the verge of having an excitement-based panic attack.

"Pitor is a continent from my world! It's beautiful and the people there are always so friendly!" She said, clapping her hands together before she remembered who she was supposed to be and cleared her throat. "I mean, it's pretty good." She said, noting that the beetles from before were back and cleaning the windows. Or at least she thought it was them; as bad as it sounded to her own mind a lot of them seemed very similar given their insectile nature. She could tell them apart, and they were all unique, it's just that from the back, where you had the logo seemingly stenciled or tattooed to the carapace, it was difficult to tell. Either way they had done a good job; the windows were all clear of dust, the metal cleaned of rust and the entire tower was gleaming.

Maybe they should have let them valet the T-ship…

"This place looks to be made of the expensive." Nigel butchered the language more, looking up and down at the hotel. The light above this particular building was not on, given that the building itself seemed to stretch to just under the high ceiling. "It also stands out too much. It is a good thing that we are not to be staaayyy-you have already booked us the room, did you not?"

"….Maaaaybe."

"K-, er, Amand'r, We are to be supposed to stay on the low down." Nigel hissed, his glances becoming more frantic as he searched the crowd for other Blacktrinians who might be watching him. Given their general numbers across the universe, there were Blacktrinians in the crowd, but next to no one that were paying attention to him; at a café near by a veteran, who was missing most of one arm and had a form of cybernetic replacement, was laughing and joking with another that almost the mirror opposite injures, except that his friend had a mechanical eye as well. His ears picked up them joking about how they looked pretty good, considering that a Tamaranean bomb exploded in their faces.

"Yes, and your sudden frantic movements are drawing more attention than this stay ever would." Starfire gave her friend a slightly tired look. Nigel looked slightly sheepish, but no less nervous. "There are many reasons I went with this particular hotel, one of which is Tamaran hospitality! It is some of the greatest in the entire known universe." Her voice carried the words with pride, though it also carried a little bit of patriotic bias, but Nigel couldn't exactly complain. He, himself, had been boastful about the medical advances made by the Empire.

"Either way, are you sure this is wise?" He asked, his eyes darting around as he heard his familiar tongue being spoken. Again, there was little to be concerned about; it was a mother and father carrying and walking with a handful of children. The father held one close to his chest, who was too young to walk, while the other three children tugged at their clawed hands with their gloved ones and asked, rather emphatically, to go to the park and run around. The parents had a tired look, and nodded as they detoured up a street.

"I don't see why not, after all, I'm supposed to be important." Star pulled a compact from her belt and held it up to her face. She then took a little dark red face paint and rubbed it between her fingers for a good coat, before smearing it in a thick line across her eyes. She then took another finger full and spread it down the centre of her bottom lip and to her chin. She did this as a prop, Tim would have said, as a way to mask or hide her identity as everyone will be looking at the paint rather than the person.

She placed the compact away, licking her fingers and rubbing the paint off them, before she floated in to the entrance hall of the hotel. Nigel took one last look around, before following her in, putting on the mask of the brute again.

White eyes watched them from the shadows, with great curiosity. He was far from blind, though his eyes were not as good as his hearing. How very curious, that whole situation had been. The boy had been far too paranoid to spot him.

How very curious.

Things had not gone too well upon their entering the hotel. Star hit the ground and marched in as if she owned the place. While most Tamaraneans seemed taller than the teen when they visited some years ago, she had grown quite a few inches and her shoulders had broadened out giving her a powerful, amazonic, hourglass figure. The curve of her hips and swell of her breasts, which Tara had once commented on by giving her the nickname "Balloon Bod", a loving moniker that had not lasted after a few…assertive displays of displeasure on the Tamaranean's part, was completely overshadowed by the rest of the soldier image. So as she stood they noted the head-dress, the armour, the war paint, the girl's muscles and how she carried herself. It was impressive so say the least and she seemed to gleam with barely contained red rage that could snap a man in half.

Though it _was_ slightly spoiled when Nigel was tackled by two awaiting guards when alarms blared out, especially as he started fighting back when they tried to cuff him. Kory swiftly attempted to calm the situation, to stop Nigel from running rampant in a blind panic, but it only succeeded in speeding the oncoming brawl, in a flurry of luggage, broken weapons and more.

One of the guards was thrown out of the Holo-window with a crash. Most would consider this strange and violent behaviour, but given that it was a Tamaranean hotel, a lot of the onlookers simply looked and walked on. A few watched with interest but without complaint, and the store across the street took bets with the Kelball vendor on the corner to see if anyone else would go through the window. The store owner lost as the guard got up and promptly ran back in to the hotel, only to be floored in one punch.

Then the manager arrived, understandably unhappy, storming from his office with fists raised and eyes glowing brilliant green with righteous fury. It faltered when he came to face a very annoyed Starfire, a remarkably stressed out Scalpel and his two guards who were both unconscious on the floor.

"WHAT is going on in MY HOTEL?!" He demanded, trying to regain his lost footing.

"Why do you think you can just randomly attack me?!" Kory's own eyes were ablaze and her fists clenched so tightly they were shaking. Nigel was never sure but something about being around her species always brought out Kory's angry side. If he had placed more time on psychology he might have deduced it was some deep-seated resentment, but he hadn't so he only got half the picture.

The aging Tamaran man, who sported a thick beard and a middle age spread that he attempted to fight on more than one occasion, did not really want to anger this young warrior as she stood over the bodies of his two rather expensive guards.

"They would not have stepped in if there was not a good reason!" He shouted, trying to prove his rage was more appropriate than hers, given that she had destroyed his property and his guards. Nigel gathered up the bags, muttering to himself in Blacktrinian. Star winced; she couldn't understand the guttural language but she could read his expression; he was going to panic soon. "Wake up!" The hotel manager demanded off one of the fallen guards.

"Nghasir?" He offered, groggily raising his head and looking at manager. He had the sort of look someone who had been on an all-night drinking binge, which wasn't helped by the fact his body wasn't quite answering his commands and taking them more as polite suggestions, and so he had a conflict of expressions all at once.

"Why did you defend my hotel?" He demanded, stroking his long beard as he shot a glance at the warrior clad Star, who folded her arms under her chest and offered little more than a humph. She wasn't one for lying, usually, but she was good at letting her emotions just take control of the body.

"Weaaponss a...lert, seir." He muffled, before falling back to the lovely black that had cocooned him. There wasn't any pain in the black, after all, whereas here there was pain in his wrist, his chest, his head and more. It was all very inconvenient.

The manager nudged him with his boot, to no avail, before turning to Star, once again swelling with furious indignation.

"Well?" He barked, looking at her with aged eyes that showed more years than the lines in his face.

"Well?" She asked; her naivety and soft voice shining through her mask a little, though she managed to catch herself. She cleared her throat, remembering her role. "Well _what?_" She amended, more forcefully this time around.

"You are not usually meant to have weapons." He trailed off, though he could feel a trickle of doubt and discomfort worming its way in to his mind as he watched and waited. If she thought nothing of breaking weapons laws, then what other things could she...

"It's his hands." She said, with a sigh that she had practiced in the mirror. On the ship out she and Nigel had rehearsed their roles to ensure that they wouldn't be caught or spotted, taking to asking each other questions in order to make it seem less of a challenge to answer things they should know as the characters they now portrayed.

Again, it had been an _absurdly _boring trip.

It took them ten minutes to explain Blacktranian biology. While most men and women of Tamaran knew of the Blacktrinian menace that had stormed their beaches, burned down their homes, raped their wives and ate their children, their knowledge of their biology was reduced to how to kill them. The fact they needed the claws to protect their hands was something that rarely came up, and their cultural differences about carrying some sort of weapon on them at all times was also lost. Their two peoples had been warring for a hundred years, and neither one bothered to learn anything about the other. Even the reason for the conflict had been lost to the pages of history.

Two great empires, killing each other in the name of a reason that neither could remember. That was the failing of civilization.

Eventually the manager was shown the error of his ways, and as compensation and for their assistance in proving his security was flawed, they were granted a room upgrade for free; the Duchess Suite near the top of the hotel.

Nigel set their bags down in a rather hurried manner, rushing to the doors that lead to the balcony and to the others rooms. With each trip he ran and checked, double checked and triple checked for listening devices, potential spies and more. He was not as experienced as Noel at his paranoia, but was making a good, if naive, effort.

"My dear friend, please calm yourself." Kory asked, now out of sight of the others, in the tongue she had grown so used to; English. Her eyes alone implored the panic-stricken doctor to try and keep calm, but he could not.

More than once he slipped to his native language, trying to relax his usually serene nerves and once he did that there was no talking, no helping, just him stirring himself deeper into a pit of dread. He turned and said a few words to her, again in his own language, and Kory stepped forwards and grabbed at his shoulders.

Her emerald eyes, the eyes that could sink hundreds to their knees and thank-god to be alive, stared in to their dark counterparts so intently that she could see the slightly darker ring within his irises, where his pupils sat. After all the time she had known him, brave, fearless and a rock for others to depend on, he was back in space and it scared him. He was the boy again, the teenager they sent to war. He was the child that ran from the battlefield, scared of what he had seen and what he had told no other. He was the young man in the alleyway, having been attacked by two corrupted heroes who lashed out at Star because of fear. He was small, scared...

"I can help you, but you must trust me. This will be the first step." She spoke, her tone was akin to silk, but her words were forged in iron. There was a certainty that made sure you did not argue with it. "Do you understand?"

Nigel nodded, his breath was shallow now as he stared in to her eyes, eyes that had seen so much hate and destruction and still gleamed with the light of innocence and love. "Good." The Tamaran girl spoke, nodding to him.

And with that, Kory's hand reached up and cradled Nigel's face as she drew him into a firm, warm, kiss.

* * *

There was a slight break in the story as a red-faced Sophie clocked her boyfriend across the face.

The Titans started themselves, reacting but unsure how to respond Sophie's rage, and to her fist, which seemed to show some bruises on the knuckles, was clenched and shaking. Nigel now sported a rather large black eye, and as Blacktrinian blood is actually black and neither red nor blue, it just made it look as dark as the void of space.

Ryce's earlier murderous gleam had been replaced by imploring: "Sophie, PLEASE, I would beat him stupid too, but can't you just…lower it a touch?"

Beside her, Adam simply looked from one to the other, blinking.

"..So has no one ever bothered to explain Tamaranean anatomy to Soph, or…?" He started, but his words were overshadowed by Sophie, who hadn't heard either of them.

"O-oh! So THAT'S how it was, was it?!" Sophie stammered angrily, taking deep breaths through her nose as her lips fought to purse in to a frown or open and spill the vile her mind demanded of it. "While I'm stuck here, on earth, carrying YOUR baby, you're off in the stars gallivanting around and MAKING OUT with-"

"No, no! It wasn't like that!" Star came to Nigel's defence, slapping an ice-bag wrapped in a kitchen towel into his claws. "We promise you, Sophie! Neither of us would ever-"

"Could have sworn this happened before with Beastboy, back during the whole light city fiasco," Adam continued, ignored.

"Not at all, Star's lovely and all but I would never-" Nigel started, raising the bag to his face.

"Oh, LOVELY is she?! And what am I? Just alright?!" She screamed again as Raven's power wrap against her, with an extremely gentle touch meant to simply stop her. The empathy still winced when the larger woman took a few deep breaths and struggled against the restraint.

"And that time with Tim when she first crashed here…"

"I think the hormones are bleeding into your aggression centers, Soph." Noel commented, in a rather offhand way.

"_**I**_ think you need to stop chimin' in your 'expertise' on the experiences of pregnant women," Ryce grumbled waspishly, before letting out a tired sigh: The light on her arm had gone red.

"Plus, there was that time Star wanted to learn Amishian, the language of the Amish, from me," Adam continued.

"…what?" Ryce said, snapping her eyes to him.

Sophie, still held in place by Raven's considerable efforts, mercifully derailed that conversation with her own snap. Raven found that it was extremely difficult to hold her with the level of delicacy one had to consider to restrain a mother-to-be.

"I don't _believe _this!"

"Yes, I agree with Ryce, very astute of you, Noel." Raven said dryly as she pulled Sophie back from lunging at Kory. "Find your centre, Sophie." the magic user instructed, her voice calm and level one in to her friend's ear. "This _is_ mostly the Hormones causing chaos—not a word, Adam—at your expense. It's okay." She continued to talk in the level tone, as she slowly siphoned off the rage.

"...Okay. Okay..." Sophie agreed, closing her eyes and still taking in a few deep, angry breaths. The empath could feel the hate and betrayal that had built up in such a short amount of time, fuelled by hormones and Sophie's own insecurities.

"Sophie, really, use that brain of yours and think—would _Kory_ and _Nigel_ ever cheat on y-" Noel started, before Raven held up a hand.

"A little too much condescension, Noel Dear, your words are just hitting a wall." Raven said, somewhat tiredly, while she touched Sophie's back. Noel could almost feel a block of rage, one that had been stopping her from logic and reason, be absorbed in to Raven. Noel watched Sophie's face change, as if the rage and hormones had blocked the sink, and now it was free the cool feeling of calm was washing over her. Raven was a different story; however, as her eyes snapped open as she stood up, sharply and stormed from the room.

Nigel could swear he heard swear words from different realities. Even those without super hearing could still pick out the muffled yells of anger, and Gauntlet had even walked closer to the door to try and make out some of the words. Ryce and Adam seemed to follow him, perhaps looking to jot down the ones that relayed to them.

Noel had neither the time nor inclination to deal with any of that.

"…Pregnant moods are the worst moods; I do too much to that poor woman." The mortician sighed deeply and rubbed her eyes. "I think it overloaded her…I'll have to make it up to her later."

Over her shoulder the group heard Gauntlet counting the swearwords he had heard so far: Twenty-six and rising. Ryce, instead of stopping as Noel had assumed she would, stormed right past him, her face a mask of barely-there restraint. Everyone seemed to realize why this was at the same time, especially after Adam tried to follow after her.

"Do you need he-"

"Help by texting me when she shuts up…she's going to scare him," she sighed, disappearing through the door into the halls of the Tower.

Adam was left standing, looking less than pleased with the still swearing-Raven.

"…Sorry, Adam," Sophie winced.

The demon rolled his eyes and raised a brow at Robin. "Well?"

"…Ah," Tim started, getting the hint, "Soph—er, there's one fundamental thing you obviously don't know," he rested his arms on his knees as he spoke. "Kory learns languages via physical contact." He had slipped in to the same sort of pitch that Nigel often used, talking with people who were somewhat distressed or distrustful required a certain amount of tact that the doctor had in spades.

"...What?" The disbelief in the mortician's voice was next to apocalyptic, but she played along for the sake of sanity.

"I _know_, right?" Adam said as he walked past her, flopping on his seat.

"When she first arrived on earth, she kissed me without even knowing me. She learned our language from that; she then did the same with a Japanese boy, as well as a Mexican." He said, though his mood seemed to darken when he thought about her kissing random strangers or off-limit members of the group. The advantage he had was that he knew why and what was going on, though remembering her kissing the tall Swedish bikini model made up for some of that, his lizard brain treacherously thought at him.

"It is not the sort of thing you could make up." Kory said, trying to actually stay out of this part of the conversation. "If it was anything other than what it was, we might not have brought it up to you." She tried to appeal to logic, and for her troubles received a rather cold glare. Now that the fire of anger had been put out, all that was left was the frost.

"Now, Sophie, think about it." Noel started again, turning her attention away from Tim and Kory with some effort. "These two are two of the most loyal, devoted members of the team."

Beastboy was about to say something, but a nudge from Vic and a few whispered words from Tara basically told him to stay quiet and to let them have this for now. "Now put that image of them and stack it up to the idea of them CHEATING, with each other, against Tim and yourself. Do you think they could betray your trust in them? Does that make any sense at all given both of their histories?" He said, making sure to be clear as possible.

"If nothing else, having successfully pulled off the most elaborate cheating ruse in history by doing it while being literally_ secluded in space_, why would they then be so ungodly stupid as to just casuallyreveal it to us while telling a story? Bragging rights?" Adam added, always the one to point out the more logical aspects of a story.

"...It does sound pretty stupid when your glands don't dump three gallons of hormones in your brain." She commented, sheepishly as she looked down to her knees, or at least what part of her knees she could see. "Mind if we continue in a bit? I think I need some time."

"Take your time, we'll refresh our drinks." Tim said, standing up and grabbing the kettle and heading to the kitchen. Sophie headed out, past Gauntlet and into the corridor where Raven was just coming off the boil.

Ten minutes passed, drinks were refreshed, fresh snacks were placed across the table and promptly grabbed at when the two women came back in to the room and sat down next to their respective partners.

"I'm...not sure if I'm sorry, Nigel." Sophie said honestly, looking a little sheepish and afraid. "I shouldn't have lashed out like that, even with all that was going on in my head, so I'm sorry for that."

He nodded at her, the black swelling having already started to look like a marked improvement.

"It happens, and we'll talk more about it later, and I can't say I wasn't hurt..." He took a deep breath, before exuding a broad, toothy, grin. "But I understand." She returned the expression, though with a side order of sheepishness as she sat back down.

"She just needed some meditation time." Raven nodded, while Noel nudged her in the side. They both, along with everyone else, turned towards the steps approaching the room.

"I hate you both and so does Zane," Ryce's voice chimed lightly as she emerged, her arms quite full.

Adam jumped to his feet instantly, a wide grin greeting her, or rather them Them.

Wide blue eyes, the same shade as her right one, blinked blearily at everyone from the folds of a soft-looking yellow blanket. The baby was small, a newborn of a month at most, and clearly had just woken up. A pudgy pink fist poked out from the swaddling to bat at both her shirt and the air as she carried him over to her awaiting significant other, who was positively fidgeting with the need to hold him.

"He jus' ate he night spit up on you," Ryce warned handing him over as they both settled back to their seats.

"Don't care," Met said, almost dismissively, beaming at the baby boy. When he purred at him in adoration, the goggling baby squeaked happily, attempting his own, clumsy, purring noises. It left little room to his parentage.

"Ryce…I'm so sorry I didn't mean to wake him up," Sophie cringed only to be waved off.

"S'fine…he wanted dinner anyway."

"We're playing the 'let's be fascinated by everything in the world' game anyway," Adam piped in, caressing the curious baby's cheek with a finger.

"Right…" Nigel said, grinning slightly at the father. "Anyway, where were we?" he asked, turning to Kory.

"I believe we were right about..." She started, trailing off into the story again.

* * *

Kory pulled away from the rather confused Blacktrinian, the taste of her lips still on his as he blinked for a moment. Kory's eyes remained closed, as if she was reading something off the inside of her eyelids. A faint smile crossed her lips, as she took a step away from Nigel, who raised a clawed hand to his own lips uncertainly.

"Well…That was…nice and all, but what the hell was it about?" Nigel said in his native tongue, and after a brief moment his companion smiled.

"I understood that." She said, speaking back in Blacktranian. His panic from before was seemingly derailed when the two alien Titans were brought in to a quick embrace, not that many would blame him. "How is my accent?" She asked, speaking his native words as if they were her own. The accent was spot-on; but he would have to see about what she'd do with the grammar.

"Very good, all things considered." He responded, still somewhat baffled. He bit his lower lip as his mind ran straight to Sophie and the fact that he just kissed a long-term friend, and a gorgeous one to boot. He would like to say that he was kissed, that he had no control or want to be there, but…He could have shoved her away, thrown her across the room or muffled some form of warning. He didn't. Guilt filled the back of his mind, and he just hoped that if Sophie ever heard the story then she'd be willing or able to forgive him not fighting.

It turned out to be a rather erroneous thought. Life's a bitch that way.

"You were panicking, and when you panic, I've noticed, you slip into your own language, my Friend Nigel." Kory spoke, taking a few steps away from him and sitting down upon the bed. An orange hand patted the soft material next to her, indicating she wanted him to sit down.

With his mind muddled, guilt-ridden and panic-strained, he followed her indication and sat with her. His eyes were focused on the floor, as if he was attempting to count the fibres in the traditional Tamaran flooring.

"I shouldn't have done that." He said, meekly, resting his claws in one another. A deep sigh echoed from his battered chest, as he continued to stare fixedly at any direction that was not Kory.

"I should have asked, I am sorry." She said, placing a hand on his shoulder in some attempt to placate him. "You were scared; I have never before seen such fear in you. It is…unnerving." She spoke, honestly, as her eyes conveyed every emotion that fought for dominance.

"I have something to be scared about, I guess." He spoke, in return, his deep voice sounding thick in the guttural language. In English she had never quite noticed it, but all his years as a Titan has caused the man to have a slightly broken voice. She was new to his language, and even she could tell his voice wasn't what it should have been. The scars on his chest, to his throat, even on his face all told of the damage that he had put himself through, told of the fearless nature of his pursuit of happiness. The crusade was the joke name for the level of determination Nigel showed to his job, to the dedication for his duty. He had been once sent for a psychiatric evaluation, all the Titans had, and what had been gleamed was that he might have a self-annihilation complex; from feelings of betrayal during the war, he is seeking to prove not only himself but his entire species wrong in some way and show that he is worthwhile, but it is not something that can be given.

And now he was scared. He had walked up to demi-gods and spat at them in the eye, he had faced down the horrors of the age and kept on getting up to come back for more. Other heroes were sometimes, jokingly, judged on the Scalpel Scale for how fearless, reckless or just plain suicidal someone might be. And yet now…

"You're scared about what might happen to Sophie is you get caught here." Kory hushed, looking down at the clawed hands, as she heard a clattering. His hands were shaking.

"If they catch me, if they…" He paused, squeezing his hands in to fists. Metal scraped against metal and almost squealed as they closed tighter than they were ever intended to be. "…I'll be killed; I'm a deserter, and that is a capital crime." He said that almost, almost, as if he were telling the time, it was only the slight shake in his voice that signaled the difference. "Just another day, I guess. I could be killed at any time on Earth. Look how many people have tried, after all."

"They never succeeded." Kory said, scooting closer to Nigel, resting her arm across his shoulders, almost protecting him from the rest of the world. "We're there to make sure that never happens."

"I know, and then…Then Sophie told me she was…" He ran a hand through his hair, scratching deep at the roots as he fumbled for words. "I know she'll be fine. She'll be looked after, and the child will also be protected, but if..."

"You'll meet your daughter." Star held him close, as her mind jumped ahead to his concern. "I promise you, and I promised Sophie my dear friend; you're going to be home for the birth." She spoke quietly, though her voice had steel behind it, a determination and resolve very few could actually manage. "You're going to be home and you will teach her to speak, teach her to walk and more. I give to you an oath that-"

"Kory, stop." Nigel turned to her, looking deep in to her eyes. "We're in space, near Blacktrinian territory, light years away from back up, I can't let you-"

"Nigel, you have no choice." She reached in to his clawed fingers and grabbed at the sharp edges with such a turn of speed Nigel couldn't open his hands away from her fast enough. The noise of a knife drawing across silk ran through the air as the Tamaran princess winced and raised a fist. Blood, a strange burgundy colour, dripped through her fingers. "You are familiar with the Oath of Hazzurn Ridge, are you not?"

Nigel nodded, soberly. Back during the war there was a skirmish over a cliff-ridge known as Hazzurn Ridge. The importance of such a spit of land was questionable; you could use it as a great place for artillery, or as a spy outpost that could be defended easily as attempting to clamber up the cliff face would have been met with quick retribution. The main reason the ridge needed to be taken, during the war, was that the other side owned it.

During a push on to the main planet of Tamaran, when the Blacktrinians were able to actually get their forces on the ground there, they had attempted to take the ridge with the command of a white-garbed soldier. Kory did not know his name. He was leading a squad of soldiers and engineers to set up a satellite uplink on the ridge that would allow them to call down a thunder from the skies in the form of orbital drop ships with a score of soldiers just waiting to cause havoc. This could be done all across the country they were in, and perhaps further if conditions were right.

Information about the operation, however, leaked out to the Tamaran Defence Force. A Tamaran commando known to many as Scar was tasked to hunt down this white-garbed soldier and stop him from setting up anything on the ridge. If possible they would have to destroy the ridge so that this could not be tried again and kill him. She was sent with a notable force of her own.

The battle was violent and lasted for days. Eventually a truce was called and the white garbed man and Scar stood together, their various forces having suffered heavily. He had taken a few wounds, but still stood proud before the commando and spoke with a commanding voice. The ridge is not as important as his men, he spoke, and he would relinquish the ridge if his soldiers could be spared. She demanded from him an oath of blood, so that he and his soldiers would not harm them once they had left the battlefield. He said he would gladly give it, but his hands were covered in metal and to draw blood was impossible. In a blink of an eye, she reached in to his hands and sliced her hand open on his sharp claws, drenching his hand with her blood.

With a fist raised, she declared that he had shed her blood, and they were honour-bound to each other. He would keep his word, and his men would be free to leave to their extraction point so long as they destroyed their equipment. In outrage, a member of the Tamaran Defence Force took his plasma weapon and tried to kill the white-garbed Blacktrinian, only for Scar to step up and beat him into unconsciousness, declaring that her word was her bond. The white-garbed man didn't raise a finger or even flinch; he could not cause trouble and was honour-bound not to.

This became known as the Oath of Hazzurn Ridge, and for the rest of the war it was used by the commanders of opposing forces to allow people to get back to their HQ safely. Tamaran commanders flew back to base with bandaged hands, and one claw of the Blacktrinian leaders would end up covered in red blood until they were back at home.

And now, some eighteen years later, Kory was replicating the actions of that day as she held up a fist full of blood. "You have shed my blood, and we are honour-bound to each other now." She spoke, her words were full of steel as she looked deep in to Nigel's eyes. "I am honour-bound to get you home, and you are honour-bound to protect me. We are bound thus; and nothing can stop that."

"Our word is our bond." Nigel finished, looking from his blood covered hand and to the torn fist of the Tamaran girl. "Damn it to the River, Kory! I wish you hadn't done that." He stood from the bed and took a few steps forward, looking at the stain in his hand.

"But I did, and I know you!" She shouted, standing up and forcing him around to look at her, her bloodied fist still clenched tight, more to try and stem the flow of blood than anything else. "You will honour this! And you know that I will do too! We are a family; cast out by our own we found solace in the arms of aliens and the people of another world, and I will get you to our home!"

"...You know how far this goes?" He asked, holding up the bloodied hand to her. She nodded, gravely.

"All the way to Earth." She finished a sentence that hadn't been started, but they both knew what it could mean. They both knew he would have done everything he can to protect her, but this would put the steel back in his spine, to allow him to push himself all the way, to do everything it took to get back.

And as a reassurance, that she would do that too. She would have done anyway, and he would have fought the devil himself to get home to Sophie, but sometimes you need a visual aid.

She winced and slowly opened her hand. "Could you, er..."

With a bandaged and stitched hand, and a hearty meal of Glorp-worms to fortify the body against the blood loss, the aliens then retired. Of course, Nigel was the servant so he took the servant's room just off the main one and Kory had the glorious regency scale bed to herself. If they had been more criminally-inclined, they'd have both considered stealing the bed, but while everyone steals a little something from hotels, they both believed a bed might be noticed.

They would have to wait to see what tomorrow brings.

Continued in Chapter 3…


	3. Milk Run - Day 2

**Chapter 3: Milk Run - Day 2**

* * *

The morning followed, as the holo-blinds changed the image outside from a star filled night overlooking the coast of Pitor, to a bright day on one of its many farmlands. Strange birds were emulated through the electronics as they chattered a pleasing, morning harmony. Star had woken uncomfortably, used to the warmth of Tim curled in to her powerful arms.

_("You're the little spoon in this relationship?"_

"_So much explained…"_

"_Ryce? Rob? Shut. Up.")_

Without him there, she felt cold and strangely alone; and that was not a feeling she ever wanted again. For all their troubles when Nigel had first arrived, she loved Tim with all her soul; to be apart was agony. But this needed to be tended to so that her adopted sister would be safe. So her adopted niece would simply be, and be healthy at that.

Like Nigel, Kory would be more than willing to put aside her own happiness and well being for those of someone else. This was the difference between her and most others; this was important regardless of what might happen.

She slipped from the sheets and made her way to the luggage, which had been rather unceremoniously dumped last night. Grabbing her things for a morning wash along the way she stood, having caught her own reflection in the mirror on the wall, and sighed.

"The years have been kind," she said, tracing a hand across her bare shoulder as she felt small crag of a scar, following it down her arm. "And yet, they haven't, have they?" She asked herself in her own native tongue. A hand flowed from her arm, which had little marks and gaps that could hardly be seen by anyone that wasn't looking for them, down to across her rib cage that had its fare share of scars. A lump sat on one rib, where it had been cracked and repaired itself poorly, never forming quite as neat as before. She was very fortunate in some ways; a large gash that should have formed a ragged rend, only left the subtlest of pink lines to show what was once there. Even as she scoured her body, she knew others were not so fortunate.

Bare feet padded towards the door to the servant's quarter of the room, and she opened it without a sound. Light poured in from her room as she looked inside. While not stately like the previous room, this one was hardly modest. She remembered talking with the Wayne family butler, Alfred Pennyworth, some years ago. She recalled that she asked if he was part of the working class and how he betrayed not one emotion as he responded that he was a gentleman, and just because he served another gentleman did not make him a dockworker.

Until now she had never quite understood the natures of a Gentleman's Gentleman, or a Lady's lady, but somehow seeing this room made her begin to comprehend. It had all the same components as her own, but there were other facets, too; Facilities to cook, facilities to wash and so on.

Light almost reflected off her bare skin as she stepped in to the room and looked down at Nigel's sleeping form. Few people had ever seen him sleep and those that had saw what he went through each day. His body was broken, by all accounts; the wound on his chest had finally closed and had sealed long enough to actually heal. Even so, the skin still bore the weight; the centre of the dark grey mass of scar tissue was still almost black, and from there it poured out in some form of strange shallow depression that spread and ended in a ragged oval. Scars laced his body, long ones, short ones, fat ones, thin ones. Scars across his throat, his arms, his legs, his face and even his ears all told the tale of how much he had given to those that meant something for him. There were even two weld lines on his feet, where Cauterize had pinned him to the ground with his swords so fast that Nigel couldn't register the damage until it was done. By then there was nothing he could do about it. No plane of flesh had been spared over the years.

The glow from the next room flowed around her body, following the contours of her bare breast and hips as she leant down and shook him awake. It took some doing; he slept like the dead and with good reason as to why_. If the Blacktrinians had realised his loyalty, his devotion, his love for others…he would have been able to do so much_, Kory thought as she pulled a hand back. _If he were only born of Tamaran he...no, he wouldn't be Nigel then; he'd be someone else. Not a man whom I gave a friend's love to._

"We have a long day." She spoke in his tongue. Even though the language of Blacktrinian was often described as a rusty meat grinder chewing on glass, her words were soft and melodic. "I'm afraid you have to get up."

A dark eye slowly opened and looked to her. She smiled softly, her heart filling with sympathy as he breathed heavily, his entire being obviously resisting the call to begin the day. Kory really couldn't blame him.

"I'm sorry, but it's time." She said again, her voice cascading throughout the room. The lone, open, dark eye traced down her for a moment, and then back to her face.

"You forgot to get dressed, Kory." He said, the deep and harsh rumblings coming from deep within him as he slowly managed to wake up.

"You know my people." She said, with a smile. And he did; on one of the few cease-fires they had during the war, he had interacted with a few of the Tamaran soldiers. Upon the declaration of the ceasefire, they had stripped down to nothing in front of the Blacktrinian troops, before they proceeded to recline, relax, swim and more. He'd seem the commanding officer of the opposing force take her sergeant girlfriend to one side, remove some things from her pack and started to draw her into a notebook. Meanwhile, the second-in-command had taken his boyfriend and another friend and spent their time telling stories, just holding on to each other, simply for the connection of knowing they weren't alone.

Later that day a Blacktrinian Armament's Master had explained to Nigel that when the ceasefire had ended, the Tamaran soldiers knew they might have died at the hands of the Blacktrinians. So, they chose to live life, rather than wait for it to end. It had been one of the weirder days in his time under Duchess Rika's 735th company.

"I was going to clean and dress so we can go in to town."

She almost whispered each word, seeming more ashamed by the fact she had awoken him rather than her lack of clothes. After all, if there were one person she knew that was not of her species that wouldn't throw a spanner in the works, it would be him.

"I'll...do the same." He mumbled, before sitting up and rolling on to the floor with a definitive thud. He didn't move from where he had landed. "Nearly there..."

Kory smiled again and helped him to his feet as if he weighed nothing.

"Come on; we have things to buy."

And they did. After they had both washed, doing their equal best to get rid of the cloud of stale air and grease gathered from spaceflight, they once again put on their disguises and wandered deep into the station. It was almost incongruous how they could see the blackness of space, the pinpricks of the stars, being surrounded by neon lights. The fake darkness even felt artificial when it was stacked up against the awe-inspiring expanse of space itself.

Kory squeezed her bandaged hand with her opposing thumb, testing it. It garnered her a wince; the slice had done more damage than she had hopped and the oath meant she couldn't just go to some high-end medic and ask for it to be sealed back; she had to wait. It would either seal on its own or she would finish her oath, in which case she could get it sealed by a real doctor and not those backward loons on earth.

She loved earth, but man; their technology was all over the place!

"Don't pick at it." Nigel said, gruffly, as they wandered through the streets. Languages of all sorts were being bandied around out here; a Weaponite that looked to be some form of black being with huge jet turbines was shouting in binary at a Thanagarian weapons trader. He in turn, was holding a battle mace in both hands and shouting straight back; Nigel believed it was something to do with a refund. A Gordanian who was surrounded by bodyguards as he moved past a few stores, was getting a glare from each and every shop he walked past. Small races, no bigger than knee high, were haggling with races that towered massively above every other person. Everything here was alive and it almost felt homely, if not a bit noisy.

The store they eventually came to was a large one, set just behind the stalls and fronts that made up the street. It still felt off to use that term in an enclosed space like the station, but the word corridor just didn't cut it. The front itself was a prefab facade, with an open archway and a minor energy barrier to prevent things from being blown in from the street. A large holographic sign that hovered two feet in front of the store and about twelve feet above the ground, stated the business' name; Future-To-Be. The holographic display had a picture of a large hand holding a small one in a gentle blue colour cascade.

"I think this is the one." Nigel said, looking at the sign and then holding up a small map they had procured of the station. He had paid good money for it, but it had turned out to be a scam to mark out those poor, helpless tourists that needed it. Several armed thugs had attempted to ambush the two alien as they made their way to the store. They promptly learned to leave them alone, however, as both the Titans walked away. In their wake, the muggers were left in a crumpled, groaning, pile.

"Cute." Kory said, with a genuine expression on her face. "What is this place?" She asked, floating in behind the Blacktrinian as he stomped into the store. Once more, her visage was obscured by the face paint that had masked it before, and he was, again, hiding under the peaked brim of the shako. As best he could hide, that was.

He then remembered his role and stood to one side, allowing the Tamaranian Officer to float past him and into the room. The inside was the same as most stores here, considering that they were mostly prefabs. It was a large open space that looked like it had been moulded out of one piece of plastic; the corners of the room curved rather than were angled. Shelves looked as if they had been cast out of the floor or the walls rather than being an extra addition and the same could have been said of the checkout. Behind that, was a plump looking Blacktrinian woman with red eyes and a plastered smile. It was the sort of smile that indicated she had been standing there since the crack of dawn, but it would still be her absolute honour to serve you in your needs. Yes sir! Whatever you'd like sir! And no, sir, that wasn't a cake crumb, it was…er, some dust from the packing materials, sir. Honest!

Kory picked up the boxes from the shelf and looked it over; while she had gained a passable understanding of the language, she still needed time to assimilate the written side of it. Admittedly with the verbal side down it was much easier to learn, but it still offered some interesting challenges.

"You never-" Kory started, before clearing her throat, her voice becoming more baritone than it had previous. "-You never said what this place was." She finished, doing her best to offer a sneer at the supposed Blacktrinian manservant. He stepped forward a grabbed up a basket.

"This is a Blacktrinian owned store for parents and children; it offers everything from cribs and bottles to drugs to improve fertility." He explained, grabbing at a few boxes and looking them over, rolling some between his clawed fingers. Luckily the blood that had been spilt on one was dried and did not slip from his claws as he looked at the boxes.

"What are we looking for?" Kory asked again, picking up another box and glancing over the packaging. She could see the jagged, harsh, alphabet of the Blacktrinians. They looked as if to be some form of runic shape, if given a slight edge. She tried to find something with a Tamaranian translation, though with increasingly less likelihood, as each language she passed was becoming more and more incomprehensible.

"Immuno-boosters, for one, possibly of the X-23 category; It's a nice generic set." He was forced out of the thick and brutish accent he tried to put on when he played her servant; he wasn't an actor and his mind had kicked up a few gears to think about medicine. He didn't even seem to realize his mask was slipping, "She's going to need a little bit of help; we've got very good immune systems but hers…it might not be as strong." He sounded vague as he pulled several boxes from the shelves, each reading X-23 in his native tongue. The packaging was a brilliant white with red runic writing on it. He scanned the box and nodded, carrying it under his arm.

"You don't sound certain…" Her own gruff accent faded from her lips as her face took up a mask of concern.

"I'm not; hybrids aren't my speciality and I have no idea how this might turn out…" He swallowed heavily as he grabbed up a few more boxes…actually, he snatched _**all**_ the boxes on the shelf. Each container would last quite a while, but who knew how long it would be until he could get back. The last thing he wanted was for her to be coming up to some form of prom a decade and a half down the line and find she had become ill due to a lack of immuno-boosters.

"And the other?" Kory asked, floating down and placing a hand on his shoulder with box still in hand.

"A hybrid generic converter package. It was designed so Hybrids could be possible between races that were not genetically compatible." He started, pointing over to another shelf that was behind them. It came out of his mouth without a second thought, hanging in the air before her like a lead filled balloon.

Star stared at him for a moment. Nigel recognised this expression and took the parcel from her weakening fingers, before pulling her down to his level and setting her feet on the floor. "Breath, K-er...Amand'r." He said, trying to gauge some sort of reaction from her, nearly sputtering out her real name.

"Could you explain what they are to me, slowly, so as I don't misunderstand?" She eventually requested in a carefully measured tone. He then knew why she didn't squeal out loud; knew why she was restraining herself in such a way that went against her very nature. She didn't want hope to give way to despair if she had been wrong. Tamaranians had a tendency to allow their emotions free reign and thus could flip-flop from a radiant, ecstatic, excitement to an overbearing, dismal, dismay in short order. On this though, he could understand that crash.

"I'm not sure I can; I only read about them, but from what I can tell, it goes like this-" Nigel started, placing both claws on her shoulders and speaking softly to her in his best Doctor's voice. "They are a nanotech cluster that subtly alters the genetic structure of a hybrid child so that it can survive in the womb of the parent. It was developed by a Doctor Yelsa Weisterk who wished to have a child with an alien race she wasn't compatible with. It's a complicated piece of technology, and I'm not sure that Sophie actually needs it, but I'd rather have a few on hand just in case…"

He trailed off. The grin that had appeared over her face had a strange quality to it that unnerved the Blacktrinian doctor; it was as if fireworks had just been let off behind the woman's eyes. Sparks and flickers that would quickly catch and lead up into roaring flames that no amount of caution could slake.

"So it could mean-" She started, trying to hold back the delight in her voice, trying to keep that viciously sharp edged hope caged. Part of her brain had obviously tried to yell at her to shut up at this point, but her body was reacting on its own accord. Already, Nigel jumped to the conclusion she was working towards.

"For you and Tim? Well, er, I suppose it's possible, I mean, I don't want to get your hopes-" That was as far as he had gotten in his sputtered excuses for approaching with caution , before a squeal of delight echoed through the store. Before he could so much as blink the woman had sprung foward and swept up the doctor in to a crushing hug. She yelled in delight in her native tongue as if she were shouting to let the gods themselves know her joy. Her voice almost bounced from the walls as even people from the street started to pause and look in through the store window to see what the commotion was about.

Nigel wasn't sold. The technology was new to the market and had little testing. He had not even wanted to bring it up at all because if it didn't work? The last thing the young doctor wanted was to take part of breaking Kory's heart again. After the loss of her first child, he had watched her; how she collapsed in on herself, how she almost became a shell of her former girl that he had grown to know. He didn't want to watch her go through that again, to watch her suffer, she didn't deserve it. No one did, but especially not Starfire.

Then there was Tim. Timothy Drake, who had shattered in the face of that encroaching responsibility once before. He'd grown up over the last few years, they all had. But growing up doesn't change past actions, and Nigel remembered how he acted the first time around. He couldn't help but feel worry at the idea of Kory attempting to persuade Tim to become a parent.

"Which box is it?" She asked, flying in front of the various medicines in the aisle. Joining her search, he traced a finger across the shelves, a small scraping noise escaping it as it dragged across the white, curved, metal. The boxes all bore various brand-names, company logos and more adorned across their surfaces. Some boxes were square; some were actually round and ball like. Hexi-cubes, cylinders and more filled the shelves, but what he found looked to be akin to some strange organ donor carry case; a strange pentagonal cylinder with build in handle.

He pulled one up and looked at it.

"Blacktrinian and Unknown genetic type." He said, translating the words on the side and placing it, awkwardly, on top of the various cubes that had settled and rolled in the basket. She was staring at the shelf with hungry, almost crazed eyes as he pulled container after container out. He read though the labels; listing names of species he wasn't even sure of. With each passing case her hands lowered from their raised, clasped, position to limp and defeated. The fever bright fire in her eye began to peter out.

Somewhere along the line, he'd pulled the shelf out, spreading the contents across the aisle floor as he searched, translated, and searched again. Kory seemed to become more and more defeated with every translation and failure. Soon, she was slumped forward, her long body bending over like a toy that had run out of power as their batteries died.

Nigel was on his knees, now, scrapping at the back of the shelf for the last container. "This is why I didn't want to tell you Kor." He said, his tones muted as his clawed fingers grabbed at the last container and dragged it out. "I didn't want you to get your hopes up."

"I know, I know...but I thought…I don't know what I thought." She rubbed one arm; her eyes cast low as she looked at the numerous, scattered, boxes across the floor. Each one could have been a potential life that should not, or would not, have lived. Each one could offer someone the chance to be a mother, a father, to be happy.

But not her. It seemed that even science wouldn't provide an answer to try and help a woman and her mate find that little joy that raising a family would entail. She had a near infinite capacity for love, some described, but she would never be able to use it. Never for her own.

"Let's just go." She said, turning away and walking a few steps as Nigel looked down at the box in his claws. His mouth moved quietly as he read, turning the container around to gleam some extra information from the text on the back; if nothing else than to double check the fine print.

Kory wiped the tears from her eyes; she couldn't start to cry here. She had to keep the expression of a hardened alien warrior woman; she was strong and tough and…her soul hurt. Much like Robert felt the sting of being the eternal punch line, she felt a pang in her core about how she wanted a family, but would never get one. Recalling one of Rob's many trips into the internet, he had discovered the Inverse Fertility plot device. It was a term created mainly to explain why these women, all of the sort of age where they might have children as part of the plotline, weren't. Either they didn't want to have them or, if they had somehow crossed the taboo line, did want them but found they were unable to have them.

The universe, it seemed as some form of cosmic gag, had decided that Kory would fall in to the latter. Nigel raised a hand and placed it to her shoulder, the blood shining out a dark, staining, red against the tarnished grey metalwork. She turned slowly to him, her eyes threatened to well up at any point. Dreams of children...were not in the cards. Being able to understand that look that Sophie and Ryce got in their eyes when they felt the life they were creating inside of them move...it wasn't part of her story. It broke her heart. It broke _**her.**_

She thanked the gods and stars for when the broken were not so alone.

It was only because of Nigel's great strength that he didn't end up being crushed by the hug. He seemed to pause, almost unused to this sort of contact, but brought his arms around and hugged the Tamaranian girl in return. A soft, gentle, smile settled upon his face as he held her close.

"You deserve the world, Kory. You are, by far, the best of us." He whispered into her ear. "You have done so much for us; you have the right to be happy and to that end I promise you, I'll help where I can."

"I have the best family in the all the stars." She whispered in return, giving him one last squeeze before letting him go and taking a step back. The smile radiated beyond the disguise, tragic and beautiful, washing anyone that saw it in a warm glow.

They grabbed up the everything that was needed; the special cloth and metal that made up the claws of a Blacktrinian, as well as the tools that were needed to actually craft them and graft them to the poor child once they had been born. They purchased clothing designed for a Blacktrinian child and, much to Nigel's pained expression, he could not resist Kory's addition of something garishly purple.

Formula, toys, bricker-brack, even a cuddly Snay plush made their way in to the basket. The Snay toy itself looked to be a big blobby creature that seemed to be a cross between the form of land based lizard and a killer whale, with huge cute eyes and a big flat tongue poking out above little, rounded, pointed teeth. The basket, now heavy and creaking at the handle, was placed on the countertop.

"Oh, my, well…" The assistant said, offering the same plastered smile she had offered to every customer as she started to unload the cart with carful, clawed, hands. "You look as if you're being prepared." She said, twisting at the waist as she had to place things further and further away to line up all the items. Star couldn't help but feel sorry for the poor woman, who looked as if she'd been there since last night, and for her blouse, that looked a few sizes too small and was trying to contain a lot of Blacktrinian. It wasn't that she was unattractive; it was just she had long ago lost the one damn she gave about ordering greasy takeout food without the funds to buy new clothes.

Item after item was run up and packed in a heavy weave-cloth bag, with the exception of the Snay, who got a little carry basket all of its own despite the fact it was a soft toy. Nigel flushed darkly at buying the plush, feeling silly. Despite his years at war and how much he had fought and seen in battle; there was still a part of him that was soft to the needs of others. Kory giggled at his blush, having long ago abandoned the character she was supposed to be playing. The numbers on the counter climbed higher and higher, the Blacktrinian indicators ticking over as he turned to Kory.

"So, we'll be going back sooner than expected." He said, pulling a coin purse from his belt and checking the contents. The shop assistant turned the dial towards him and smiled, sweetly, knowing she might get a small bonus for the amount he just bought.

"Why do you say that?" Star asked, as he counted out the various strange blocks and bars from his coin bag. Eventually, he just sighed and upended the entire thing in to her awaiting clawed hand. The shop woman nodded, happily, as she poured the contents of her hand in to various small coin slots in front of her. A small bonus indeed.

"Because I just spent all my money." Nigel grumbled quietly, stashing the coin purse into a pocket for use when, and if, he ever got some Blacktrinian currency again. Technically he was owed backpay from his time in the army; but he doubted he'd be trying to collect it any time soon.

"Thank-you for shopping at Future-To-Be; we hope to see your custom in the future." the assitant smiled and placed a clawed hand over her breast and bowed in a traditional Blacktrinian farewell posture. Nigel, caught off guard for a bit, returned it. It'd been so long…

"Next customer please!"

As he picked up the bags, Kory taking up the fake Snay toy, he turned to leave. He didn't get two steps before he looked up at the woman standing before them. As recognition bled into his dark eyes, his blood turned to ice in his veins.

It just wasn't fair.

"Hey tubby; you got any X-23 immuno-Boosters in back? Shelf's empty in front…and…" Blackfire turned and stared at Starfire and Scalpel, her eyes going wide with acknowledgment.

Kory remembered the day she was supposed to get married. She had dragged all of the Titans with her to Tamaran, some flying in the slightly temperamental remains of Nigel's old ship. When he had landed on earth all those years ago, he hit hard and it took him, Cyborg and a few others months to actually put it back together into some semblance of working order. Still with eight Titans at the time, they needed it to carry the extras. Otherwise, it would be a trip entailing several Titans sitting on other Titan's laps, which did not make things comfortable for space travel. It didn't make for comfortable ANY type of travel, really.

Some Titans, Noel included, were promptly smacked because of their minds having found their way in to gutters. Poor Raven almost turned as purple as her cloak from the mental run off.

Still Nigel's ship had been useful when they were under attack, being a small military shuttle craft. But Cyborg had sworn for all the effort, it would have been better to have ripped the engine out of it and placed it into a whole new frame.

He never did get around to it, Nigel noted.

There had been more than a few problems when they had landed. Because of the treaty signed between the Tamaran Royal Family and the Empire, Blacktrinians were not allowed into the palace grounds unless they were of Royal blood (which he wasn't) or part of the retinue of said Royal (which he wasn't either). The only other exception was the ambassador, who was already there. They eventually wrangled his entry by saying he was part of Kory's royal retinue and that, though it ruffled a few feathers, seemed to be good enough.

Gauntlet had spent most of his time at the palace trying, and repeatedly failing, to seduce alien women. He was witty, funny, and actually had learned a thing or two when it came to the Tamaranian customs and practices. He even spoke conversational Tamaranian, purely because he had actually bothered to learn. Noel had wondered later if it was for Kory's benefit, so she had someone to talk to, or for this exact reason.

Gauntlet, unfortunately, didn't find out until it was too late that blonde haired men and women were considered infertile by Tamaranian standards, much like blondes were written off as dumb on earth, and most of the women there were raised to recognise this fact. Tara had tried to bat her eyelashes at a rather attractive butler and was told, in a kind way, this truth and she promptly passed it to Gauntlet in front of everyone else. Noel laughed for days afterwards, apparently. He still did in fact, whenever he thought back to it.

Then they saw her, Kory's sister Kormand'r, and learned that she had ascended to the throne. Even though none could say it, they all knew it was bad.

When Star's husband was presented to them, they started to look into this sham wedding. It couldn't have been as political as it had initially been made out to be, given that there were few and far between in the way of dignitaries. Even the Blacktrinian Ambassador seemed rather shocked by the news, and he had been staying in and around the palace for months.

They found the plot, they found the gemstone, and Starfire had managed to force Blackfire to relinquish he throne of their world to her former caregiver. The new King of Tamaran thusly ordered Blackfire to marry Starfire's original betrothed. For a while, they had expected to see Blackfire return, in a blaze of glory, with green blood and slime on her fists and vengeance in her eyes.

They never did, though; it had been the last time they had ever run in to Kory's sister. Star, supposedly, visited her once but no one was entirely sure what had happened. Nigel noted slight electrical shock burns on her finger tips but no other words were exchanged on the subject.

And here she was, standing in the middle of the store that the two aliens had wandered in to.

"...What are the chances...?" Scalpel whispered as he stared up at the dark haired woman, whose eyes almost bulged from their orbits. Slowly, the surprise on Backfire's face morphed into mind blowing rage.

"That's not possible, even with our luck..." Star replied in an equally hushed voice, holding a hand to her mouth. Kormand'r's eyes twitched. Kory and Nigel were like statues; staring at Blackfire thinking maybe if they didn't move and didn't' breath like NORMAL people do...everything would be just fine.

Nigel wagered they could do this for about...oh...twenty minutes.

"YOU!" She screamed, her eyes glowing bright purple as she took a few steps forward.

"Sister!" Kory replied, moving forward and smiling broadly, having placed her bag down to float a bit closer. "It is, er, good to see you!" She said, trying to appear overjoyed at the arrival of her sister. Nigel wasn't sure anything could look more forced or less comfortable.

"You were always a bad liar, Sister." She spat, darkly as she took in the sight of the two. "Well don't you two look sweet in your costumes; I didn't realise that Halloween had come early."

"We've no quarrel with you." Nigel said, taking a step back into a steadier, prepared, pose as he placed the overloaded bags to the ground. The assistant had slipped off to the back to conveniently look for those Immuno-boosters, and quite possibly to call security at the same time.

"Strange...I have all the quarrel in the galaxy with you two." She snarled as energy exploded from her hands. Spheres of gnarled power curled across her balled fists as she raised them. "You've had a beating a long time coming, sis, and now you're going to get it."

"We need not fight." Star insisted, raising her hands to try and find the better way to placate her sister's blood lust. Kormand'r decided she had already found it. She threw her hand out and a black-edged burst of purple force blew Kory from the air, throwing her back into a set of shelves.

Nigel dodged the next blast, skipping to one side as he looked back at Starfire who sat up, groaning. Taking a glance down at his clawed hand, Nigel looked over the stained metal before jerking his gaze back up with a deep throated growl.

"Our word is our bond." He uttered to himself, as he threw off the cape and shako and dove, headlong, at the exiled Tamaranian. Nothing would stop him as he tackled her from the air, slamming into her as if he were a freight train. The force of it drove her to the floor.

"And won't you turn me into a liar!" He pulled back the stained fist, a few flakes of dried blood breaking away as he pulled back.

A blast of energy threw him from Blackfire, her smirk caused scowls as often as Star's smiles caused laughter. He crashed in to the ceiling, creating a dent in the moulded metal before he promptly crashed back down to earth, or at least the ground.

"Don't make me laugh, little man!" She slipped to her feet and returned to the air in one fluid motion as her hands exploded again with raw power. "A Blacktrinian without a weapon is like a child without teeth; it sucks." She raised her hand, opening her fingers wide as the energy before her solidified and became little more than a solid ball the size of an eye in her palm. She smirked once more, her lips twisting in to a cruel smile. "Let me show you why we won the war."

"It was a draw!" A voice snapped as Star, now recovered from her brief trip in to the wall, jumped and placed both booted feet against it. She pushed off and charged, her fists encased in radiant green energy as she slammed in to her erstwhile sister with enough force to throw her back and out of the shielded door.

The force of the blow caused the tiny orb in her hands to lash out at the wall, carving a score in the front several inches deep and spanning the length of the store. Who knew what might have happened if it had been focused on one person. A pile of cooked mince was a startling image that might have been true.

Kory pulled back, allowing Kormand'r to float a little further forward, before she grabbed hold of her sister's leg and twisted. She threw her to the ground with an earth shattering blow. Carts in the street jumped a fraction from the hit, as people started to back away and, as is the way of all people everywhere, formed a circle around the scrap. Rubber neckers in deep space...

Blackfire snarled and threw her hand out, firing a dark blast into her sister's face. Kory stumbled, landing awkwardly on the ground and tried to regain some semblance of senses as she rubbed her eyes. Offering another scowling laugh, Blackfire pushed herself up and grabbed hold of Kory's long hair. She pulled it into her fingers and ensnared it between them, yanking hard. With each tug and pull she garnered a yell of pain from her sibling, until with one, powerful, tug she wrenched the younger sister to the floor.

"I learned to play dirty, Star; you should have too." She pulled at the hair, trying to tug her dazed sister to her feet.

The sound of a blade slicing the air echoed as Scalpel dove back in, landing a short distance away with a spin and placing both hands on the ground. In this spin, his kick followed the motion and slammed in to Kormand'r's chest, throwing her back. The sound of the blades brought with it the realization that the younger's hair in her hand was now a useless clump, not attached to her scalp.

"Sorry Star." Nigel said as he watched Blackfire dig her feet in to the floor and skid backwards, trying to remain upright and composed. "You lost about half a foot of hair."

Kory reached behind her and grabbed up the lengths, bringing it back around to look at the end of it. The hair itself was cut finely, the claws on Nigel's hands being of surgical sharpness, but the jagged line was not something she enjoyed.

"I don't often get angry about small things." Kory said, clenching a fist. "But I take great care of my hair, and she has now ruined it."

She pulled back a fist and lashed back out at Kormand'r, a beam of green force firing out to try and incapacitate the Exile as she started to make her way forward. This plan, unfortunately, was stopped as a figure fell from the sky and slammed his fist in to the energy, stopping it cold as he landed. The metallic street buckled under his weight, and as he stood up the creek of metal groaned but did not give way.

"This is a breach of the peace." He said. His voice spoke in common, but his accent was anything but as he straightened and looked between Kormand'r and Koriand'r, and back again. Nigel tried to obscure his face but remembered he had left his hat inside the shop.

The man stood about six foot with broad shoulders and a rather grim expression. Still, he had to tilt his head up to the sisters, whose amazonic height of six and a half stood them well above his field of vision. He showed nothing in the form of fear to either of them, though. He wore a slightly blocky black and white armoured breastplate with large curved gauntlets that ran to the crux of elbow. A thick utility belt adorned with pouches and even metallic manacles could be seen. All the same, he had a familiar greying skin tone, and metallic claws. White eyes surrounded by black stared the alien siblings down.

"I think we need to go to the station for a talk, don't you?" The Blacktrinian man said, brushing his white hair from his face and staring at them. Kory took a hold of Nigel's shoulder, knowing that he would have bolted then and there if it had not been for her presence. He was bound, now, for the duration of the trip. He couldn't leave her, as much as he wanted to get away from the man in the white and black armour.

"We will comply." She spoke, boldly with a nod. "Fetch the bags." She said to Nigel, who played the part and nodded, heading back in to the store. Soon, he returned with his hat and all the bags, including the stuffed Snay and the medical crate.

"Like hell I will!" Blackfire said, a laugh creeping on to her face as she turned to the Blacktrinian man. "You may not know who I am, 'friend', so I'll give you a small piece of advice; walk away and I may not shoot you in the back."

The Blacktrinian man sighed and turned to her; his eyes were unimpressed at what he saw as he scratched a scared edge of one ear.

"Then I will be forced to place you under formal arrest for creating a breach of the peace. You are bound by the Laws and Ordinances of the Galactic Coalition, the Blacktrinian Empire, the Gordanian Hegemony and the Commonwealth of United Planets." He leant forward, raising a hand up to hide his lips in a conspiratorial manner. "All of which find public brawling rather distasteful, I might add."

"Heh, as they say on earth; you and what army, Copper?" Blackfire flew forward, her hands raised to make sure that this pathetic man dare not speak to royalty in such a way again. He would learn his place, and once she had done so, then her sweet sister and her cringing pet would-

Blackfire never finished the thought, as three blows hit the alien princess in rapid succession; three piston-like jabs took her from the air and forced her to land hard against the ground. She grunted and threw herself back to her feet, spinning and attempting to uppercut the lawman, only to hit air as he dodged to one side and slammed an open metallic palm against her face.

While this was happening, Nigel was timing his words, whispering into Kory's ear a plan that was just so crazy it might work. Or get them killed...one of the two.

Kormand'r stumbled to one side again, holding her face. An angry, guttural, noise came from her as she fired off a few Blackbolts at the man, for all the good it did. He dodged from side to side of the bolts as if they were a light summer rain. He stepped one way, then another and as he moved back into the centre of her sights, he spun, turning his back to her and continuing on through, slamming his fist straight into her nose.

Blood exploded, fountaining from her face as if she were a ship that had just sprung a leak on high seas. A heavy thud rocked the ground once more as she hit the deck, and promptly passed into the world of unconsciousness.

"Anyone else?" He asked, standing straight, as if he had just found a coin on the sidewalk and not punched out a crown princess of Tamaran.

Surprisingly enough none of the bystanders had a problem with this.

* * *

The cell had been more comfortable than Nigel had previously considered cells should be. It had a pair of padded beds, and enough room to walk around; though Nigel posed that this might be so that the plaintiff could pace and stew in what he had done. Kory rested, laying one hand on her stomach and the other behind her head a pillow. She had said nothing to him other than the occasional utterances to try and get him to calm down.

Like many before him, in this cell, he was pacing, thinking, trying to hope that nothing would or could not happen. He'd told them they did not want the fight, did not start the fight, but they had to be put in to the cells anyways until they could corroborate their stories.

That had been hours ago. Nigel paced again, his metallic feet clicking against the ground as he had attempted to think on something, think of anything else really, than what he had feared. He watched the ground, noting the tiny scratches that seemed to be poured onto the floor, each scratch like his; a Blacktrinian pacing in their cell like some sort of caged animal had occupied this cell before him.

Someone approached. The man from before, having discarded his armour, stood there in something that looked like a Napoleonic army tunic and trousers, with the leather shin coverings. He turned and spoke a few words to the jailer, who happened to be a Thanagarian man that was reading a pamphlet on new weapons laws for space sector 2814.

Nigel would have to assume he was upset, as he waved a hand angrily at the page while the Blacktrinian man seemed to be an ocean of calm and gestured away what he was saying. The words couldn't be heard, however, as the energy barrier blocked out all noise except for what was in the cell. He could see the other cells in the circular room, though. Blackfire was now awake and sporting a large bruise across her cheeks and a small bandage across her nose. She'd attempted to break out several times, only to find the energy barrier repulsed all attempts to break through it back to the person attempting escape.

The white haired Blacktrinian walked up to the cell and pressed a button to open it. The energy shield, making a strange sound akin to a generator dying, evaporated from the center outwards until there was no barrier left.

"Come with me, please." He said. His tone was level, and while the words formed a phrase that should have been a question, both the Titans knew that it wasn't. Kory nodded, floating up and walking after him. Nigel...hesitated. Dread seemed to fill him all the way to his feet, making them leaden and unresponsive. As if sensing his frozen state, Kory luckily grabbed his arm and started to drag him along before the man realised. This would be a bad time to look as guilty as Nigel felt.

He took them and dropped them off in room with two cushioned stools that had been moulded from the floor, and a chair that followed the same logic. Nigel knew why; if a suspected criminal started being belligerent, then they couldn't throw the chairs. Or the table, actually, as it worked on a similar principal with one thick rod going from the centre down to the floor.

He closed the door and left them inside, the door locking behind them.

"Calm yourself, Servant." Kory snapped, attempting to put on the act again as she stood with her shoulders back and her fists balled. "We shall sit and talk; we did nothing wrong and were randomly assaulted."

"I don't think you know the Blacktrinian Military Police, er, m'lady." He said, trying to follow suit and slip back into the role. There was something wrong here and he could feel it in his bones. The two sat down on the stools. If nothing else, the seating arrangements were comfortable.

They didn't have to wait long. The white haired man strode in again, and they were able to get a better look at him. He didn't look old, at least not as old as his hair would state, but he looked as if he was in his early forties in human terms. The lines of age had started to show on his face, but for a Blacktrinian that could be any age between fifty and a hundred and fifty, really. A click of the closing door behind them locked him inside again as he walked over.

"Good afternoon." He greeted, in common. Sitting down heavily in the moulded chair opposite them, he dropped the two files on the table, causing it to jolt. He then placed their shopping bags beside them.

"You both prefer to speak in this sector's common tongue, do you not?" He asked, in said common, folding his claws and looking at both the Titans. They nodded to him, somewhat meekly to start but more emphatic as they went on. The man before them grumbled, rubbing his throat and looking up.

He opened up one holographic file and started to look through it, resting his chin on one clawed hand. "...According to the doc registration you are Lady Amand'r of Tamaran, coming here for a brief stay and to obtain supplies." He looked over at the shopping bag, and then back to the file before him.

"Yes sir." She responded, nodding and holding his gaze. He looked at her hand, then at Nigel's, and then back to her eyes, which seemed to show a certain amount of concern.

"The Oath of Hazzurn Ridge will only carry so far in this circumstance, Lady Amand'r, I hope you realise if either of you lose your patience it does mean we WILL be forced to incapacitate both of you," He was the picture of calm, as if he was reading the weather out to them, fingers scrolling through the information on display. They nodded gravely; for each other's safety they would have to remain calm and collected. A challenge indeed considering he was a highly strung Blacktrinian and she was a very emotionally connected Tamaranian. A small, hysterical part of Nigel's mind began to cackle at how it sounded like a premise to one of those earth television shows...a sitcom.

"We understand, sir. " Kory said, speaking for both of them. God knows, Nigel did not trust his own voice.

"Good. Now then...you were found outside of the Future-To-Be store carrying a number of procured items..." He started to pull items at random out of the bag and place them on the table. A strange squeak came from the Snay as he placed it down. Much to the surprise of both the Titans, the officer's face melted, slightly, curling at the edges into a smile. Everything went soft, for a moment as he turned it to face him. "My daughter has a real one of these; they eat everything in sight." He gave it a squeeze, causing it to squeak again as he turned it back to face Nigel with its big, cute, eyes.

"I wouldn't know, I'm afraid, Snays aren't native to my world." Nigel responded, offering a shrug as the man turned to him, the gentleness suddenly gone from his features. He looked cold and calculating.

"Oh, and what would your native world be?"

Damn.

"W'tar Four. It's a small colony world just outside Blacktrinian space. It is a back water sort of planet; no one ever troubles anyone there." He said, hoping that he sounded as convincing as he had practiced.

"...Yes, I'm sure." The officer nodded, every word very much saying that he hadn't believed a word of it. Nigel's fists clenched tight under the table as he tried to keep his face as straight as possible. Kory's hand slipped between his fingers, trying to reassure him.

More items were placed upon the table, including the genetic kit and the various medications that had been bought. The bags were still quite full of items, but it was enough to get a general idea.

"I want to run a theory past to you two." He started, placing one clawed hand into the other, a click coming from them as he searched their expressions. "You two are not who you say you are; we have witnesses that state you refer to each other by different names, and you act in completely contradictory manners to what you claim to be. Even now, you're holding hands to try and reassure each other that this will be alright." He tapped the desk with a claw, indicating under it.

They said nothing. They listened, intently, but said nothing as they watched. "Something, though, was important enough to drag you from the back waters of the universe to a populous place. That something..." He pushed the genetic kits forward. "...Was something any Blacktrinian would risk his life for."

His gaze turned to Nigel, white eyes staring, intently, into Nigel's own; the doctor felt like he was staring at the sun. He could feel his skin start to crawl, as a bead of sweat formed on his forehead despite all his internal pleas to the contrary. Then again that was the main problem with bodies; they did what they wanted to do and nothing else.

"...Yes, you are correct." Kory cut in, nodding as she tried to get the attention away from her doctor friend. "It is as you might suspect."

This seemed to garner his interest and hit a nerve, as the expression went slightly soft again.

"How far along are you, Miss?" He asked, opening his hands and facing them palm up as if he had just unwrapped a gift. Kory coughed as Nigel raised a hand and rubbed it against his temple to try and force the headache to go away.

* * *

"Wait, what?" Tim asked, looking in surprise at Kory, who shook her head and patted him on the shoulder.

"Aren't you one of the smarter ones here?" Met asked from where he was draped along the couch, his head in Ryce's lap and Zane staring at them all from his chest in great fascination, "I feel like this is a fairly obvious ruse."

"...I hate the genre savvy people here," Tim glared at the happy parents.

"What?" Ryce blinked back.

"...nothing."

"We were lying, Tim." She reassured, bringing him close into a hug to try and make sure he paid attention. "We did not wish to reveal our home here, not to a Blacktrinian authority, and so we decided to try and play their system."

"Did it work?" Terra asked, shaking her head and laughing.

"Well..." Nigel started, seeming a little uncertain how to respond. He decided to just continue the story instead.

* * *

"Not very; I still have a waist." She said, patting her stomach in a rather theatrical way, but it seemed to go over the head of the officer as he nodded and smiled again.

"Then, my dear, Blacktrinian Law dictates that you are to be released. You are free to go, once we've tested for it of course, but that's just a formality."

Damn, again.

"Until then, we cannot interrogate you as if you have committed a crime." He explained, his accent was thick and heavy and his expression was not one of frustration, bizarrely. As it lost some of the softness, his voice remained level and calm. "If you come back here and cause trouble again, when you are not baring the future, you will be arrested and the charge of public brawling will be added to the charge sheet. I hope you realize that."

"Yes sir." She said to the Blacktrinian man, nodding solemnly.

"Good. As for you..." He turned to Nigel and opened the holo-file, flipping through the pages. "Janos was it?" He asked, raising a brow and looking up. His white eyes searched the alien's face for any sign of betrayal. "Your papers said you were Janos Oswald." He reached for one of the bags and pulled the galactic passport from it, before slapping it on the table.

"Yes, sir." He responded, nodding as the officer looked at the passport with great interest.

"So you wouldn't be a deserter by the name of Nigicalnack Hastionfarlock, a medic-corporal who went missing during the push on the Tamaranean supply depots on the western front?" He asked. Nigel shook his head with closed eyes; it was the only way not to have them snap open in surprise. "Commanded by one Lieutenant Robrostro Son? No?"

Another shake of the head.

"I'm sorry, my name is Janarosk Oscwarld, Or in common Janos Oswald, and I'm a retired military police officer. I came here to find some supplies that are not present on my home planet for, well..." He nodded in the direction of Star, who did her best to blush. It was surprisingly difficult to do when forced.

"Huh...Intresting." the white haired Blacktrinian said, looking back to the file as if he wasn't really paying attention, before looking up again and placing his file down to slide it forward. Kory looked down at it and her face paled; she'd been taught how to read upside down by Tim, and the file had been translated in to Common for just that purpose.

"Who are you sir?" Kory asked, her voice a little quiet and shaky.

"I am Sergeant Janarosk Oscwarld, or in the common Janos Oswald, of the Blacktrinian Military Police Force." He said, turning the holo-file around towards him and sitting up straight, staring at Nigel. Kory's hand reached down and picked it up.

It was a file on Corporal Hastings, with pictures, statistics, and last known locations. It also had listed the estimate count of enemies killed in a time of war. He had killed, and though the number was tiny, they still hurt to read. Nigel had come clean after the incident with the Black Lanterns, about who he had ended and why. It weighed on his soul, but war often does to good people, even those who did what they did to protect others.

She knew it was "kill or be killed," but it still hurt to have them stare her back in the face. She placed a hand over her mouth and closed her eyes tightly, putting the file back down. Nigel had never felt as wretched as he did when he glanced and saw her expression. The sergeant stood up, his hands clicking against the table.

"It is my duty to track lawbreakers, to keep the peace and to bring justice to those that cannot do so for themselves. And thanks to the scuffle, we have finally found you, Hastings."

"Buh-" He tried to counter, tried to think, but his worst nightmare had just been dropped in to his lap and his brain had decided now would be a good time to leave.

"Nigicalnack Hastionfarlock, for abandoning your post in a time of war, by the powers gifted me of the Blacktrinian Empire, you are bound by Law."

The expression didn't change as he leant forward. "And just so you know, the Snay is native to W'tar Four."

Nigel stood up, quicker than anyone might have expected given that his file claimed he was a sub-par combatant. It had been true, then, but on earth he had trained and honed his skills for people who did the same to protect him. He was no weakling, no small and frail child, but a powerhouse that most on earth would think twice about fighting.

Janos was quicker, reaching a hand into a pocket and pulling something, before the sergeant slammed his fist forward. A disk, on the end of what looked like a set of knuckle dusters, sat on Janos' claws, snapped forward and slammed in to Nigel's chest. The doctor was forced back a step from the impact, before his entire body went rigid; electricity coursed through him from the disk on his chest. He slumped to his knees, smoldering at the edges, as the other fist lashed out with the same device, causing another shock of pain to hit his system. He slumped to the floor then, groaning before passing into darkness.

"No one said you were a two-for." Janos commented, almost confused as he turned and caught the glowing fist of the Tamaran woman. Surprise seemed to cross his features for a moment before he twisted her away, slamming another incoming fist with his own metallic claws, and forced her around. Then, he lunged, wrapping her up in a set of strong arms, one of his hands dashing up to hold her mouth closed. His grip wasn't unbreakable, and, thanks to the lessons that she had received, there were six ways out of this particular grip and that was before she brought her energy in to play.

She felt Janos lean in.

"For your sake, and the sake of your child, do not fight. I warned you." He hissed, though an undercurrent of concern filled up the rasping to the edges. "Pretend to pass out, and do it quick, before backup arrives or they will use force that might harm your unborn. Please!"

She considered this. For the charade to work, she would have to give up...but she wasn't actually carrying so she _**could**_ risk it, fight off the man and go! Take Nigel and the bag and get out of here! She swore an oath; she had to protect him! But maybe this was a time she used her mind to protect him and not her fists. More time was what she need, and time was precisely what she could not get. The door burst open as two other aliens in the same black and white uniforms stormed in, raising some strange looking laser weapons at her, still in the sergeant's grip.

They shouted for him to let go in Common, so they could get a clear shot. "Decide, now." He hissed again, making it look as if he was struggling with her to let go.

As much as she hated it, to keep the charade and to protect Nigel, she had to play along. She went limp in his clawed arms, faltering at all the key joints. As if in approval, he nodded and took a deep breath, helping her down to the floor gently and stepping away.

In the self imposed gloom, she could hear everything clear as day. "Take them back to the Cells. Be gentle with this one; if you mistreat them it'll be harder for you. They've done the Oath of Hazzurn Ridge."

"The what, of what?" One guard asked, the other just groaned.

"We mess with one, the other gets involved." His friend supplied; grumbling. "For your people, it's like an oath to die for each other, but not quite."

"It's not even that; it's a promise to protect each other so one or both of the parties can go home." The Sergeant supplied, the scrape of metal against sharp metal could be heard. She felt herself being raised from the ground, before being placed over a shoulder.

"Sarge, help us with this guy; he's heavy!"

"Not surprised; he was a two-for." The sergeant said, much to the surprise of the other two, one of which whistled in surprise.

They were returned to the cells and laid, rather unceremoniously, on the beds to be allowed to be brought round at their own speed. The conversation was idle and light for most of the walk there, and it soon faded as a strange bleeping noise resealed the energy barrier that held them inside. The shield was back up. They were left alone once more.

Kory's eyes opened as she looked over to the unconscious form of Nigel, who was currently drooling onto his own clawed arm. Other than this, he appeared no worse for wear...if one did not count the singe marks. Kory felt her heart drop as she swung to her feet and continued to watch him sleep.

They were in big trouble.

* * *

A few more hours passed. She'd cried a few times, as the world around her crashed into place. Once all the proper papers had been filed, and once they had made the last checks and arrangements, Nigel would be taken from her and dragged to a ship; he'd be shipped to Blacktrinia Prime where he would be put on trial for treason, found invariably guilty, and then public executed for his crimes against the royal family.

Desertion, for the empire, was tantamount to treason, and treason was a crime against the Royals, which was punishable by death. She didn't want to lose a friend, not when she could do something about it, but she was at a loss herself.

And so she sat there, with his head in her lap as he slept a forced sleep, running her hands through his black painted hair. All the while, trying to think of what she could do, trying to think of what she should do. She had considered breaking out, but recalling Blackfire's flailing in the opposing cell, the princess assumed how that would go.

After Kormand'r had been tazered to allow for safe transport, Star watched as they dragged her sister off. It didn't take them long. Not half an hour later, Blackfire was deposited back in her cell with a smirk running across her features. Her sister's glaring was grating on her last nerves, the smug self satisfaction boring into her skin.

There was one option, but it would give the entire game away. Then again, at this point it might have been worth it to try and pull on a trump card that she never wanted to use.

Her thoughts we cut short. There was a stirring in her lap.

"...Nhm...Kory?" Nigel's eyes fluttered open, looking up at her through a groggy haze.

"I'm here Nigel." She spoke, softly, patting his head once more as she looked down at him sympathetically. Her train of thought was derailed as her other hand patted the back of his. "I'm still here."

"...They know." He said, in a daze as he moved his hand slowly into her own. The stains on the claws were sinking in, now. It wasn't just the caked on blood, but where the dark coating of had chipped off there was a dark tarnish patenting on the claw itself. "They know."

"I know, Nigel, I'm so sorry." She whispered softly as her hand rested on his forehead again. A fresh well came to her eyes as she watched his expression change, shifting into despair without even going through the other emotions to get there. He became undone as he cried out, shaking hands covering his face, as pain washed from him. The world came crashing down.

All in one cry, he summed up his thoughts; he would never go home again, he would never see his friends or be able to protect them, he would never see Sophie's beautiful smile again, he'd never feel her hair in his claws and the press of her soft body against his own, he had let everyone he had ever loved down...

...He'd never meet his daughter...

Tears fell from him at that thought. His legs still would not respond, not properly, so he could not move or turn. Even if he could, all he would have done was charged the energy field and hoped he didn't fry himself too much. One last desperate, flailing swan song.

Kory wrapped around him, holding him close to her, trying to shield him from everything around him. She could do nothing but sniff away her own fears so she could try and be strong for her friend. Grounding. It was all she had to give.

"We will be out of here, and soon, and I will get you home. I have an oath bound to you on that. We...we won't ever give in." She faulted, but her words sounded strong regardless of the misstep."I have an idea, though I'm not sure it is a good one; I just have to be careful."

She slipped out from under him, careful not to let his head crash off the ground, even as she was leaning down and placing a kiss upon the heartbroken doctor's head. He seemed so much smaller, so much weaker, now. He'd tried so hard, for so long to be the big man, the better man, and now it had all been taken away...

Kory remembered the first time she'd met Nigel. Not the hot fugue he was in after a few blows to the head by other people, but when he was strapped down to a bed, coherent and talking; the terrified look on his face when he saw her for the first proper, time. The man currently before her so much resembled the boy she once knew...defeated before he had even begun.

She turned from him, her course set, as she strode over to the energy barrier. She placed her hands on her hips and drew herself up to her full, imposing height and took in a deep breath. If she needed to, she would shout, scream and yell in as haughty a voice as possible.

She was the crown princess of her entire people, and it was time to throw her weight around.

As she raised her finger, opening her mouth wide to give a tirade by royal decree, the door leading in to the cell block opened. A figure in a long purple robe followed Janos in, cutting her words at the quick. They walked to the table where the Thanagar jailer quickly threw his magazine to the floor and stood up with a salute; usually the sergeant wouldn't have expected one but the person in the lavish robes begged a little bit of extra show be put in to their daily routine.

Starfire couldn't hear what was being said, but Janos had pointed to the cell in which Kormand'r had been placed, in which the jailer looked surprised and a touch confused. The sergeant then thumbed behind him, indicating the robed person who took off their hood. She was a bulky looking woman with long, dark hair pulled back from her orange skinned face in to a large top-knot pony tail. She laughed as she explained a thing or two to the Jailer, smiling a broad smile that was used by three kinds of people. One of the three happened to be super-villains trying to appear as pleasant as possible; the other two were politicians or ambassadors.

She watched the expressive hand motions throw around large amounts of jewellery as she continued to laugh and smile, despite the fact no one else in the room was doing so. The Sergeant nodded to the Blackfire's cell one more time and, as he walked over, the cell door faded from view. Blackfire strode out, as if the world around her were peons waiting and walked, with more pride than was her due, up to the permanently smiling woman. The Sergeant and the garish woman talked for a little more, and as they talked Kormand'r couldn't help one last bit of petty retaliation as she raised a middle finger to Star, who was stuck in her cell.

Kory, enraged, struck at the shield with a fist. The fist recoiled from the energy barrier, causing her to yell inside and start muttering things to herself in Tamaranian, including such swears as "Gorfolk grebnax" and moving rapidly downwards from there.

Kormand'r blanched, as the Sergeant and the smiling woman looked up at the cell. There were other gestures and gesticulating and conversations as the throbbing in Kory's hand dimmed. Janos calmly appeared to ask for the report and was handed a data slate, which he read from. The smiling woman stopped smiling and started to yell, pointing at Starfire as if she something about her could save or doom the universe.

Janos' calm composure, which hadn't even moved into terse, disintegrated entirely. Anger filled his features as he started to yell at the woman with the jewellery, gesturing from the file, to the woman, to the prisoner and back again. The woman waved away his attempts to yell, which just made him angrier, until he broke the data slate in half in his hands.

This signalled a changed in the conversation.

The jailer sprung up and handed Janos a key, holding it before his nose and waving it back and forth. While it might have seemed unusual that a Thanagar jailer was the voice of reason, he stood between an arrogant looking pair of Tamaran women and a Blacktrinian man that was on the boil. Some fights even the Hawk People of Thanagar didn't want to get involved with. This was no skirmish brewing, it was a war.

Janos snatched it up, somewhat unceremoniously, and stormed over to the cell. A few button presses and the insertion of the key later the shield dissipated, melting again from the centre out.

"You should have come clean with me, your highness." The last part was said with some distain, though anyone watching might not be able to pinpoint who it was actually aimed at. "I might have been able to help you."

"Doubtful." The woman in the jewellery scoffed, before turning and bowing before Kory, the jewellery clattering and clanging as she smiled the large, fake smile. "Your majesty, I am Ambassador Myre'm. Allow me be the first to apologise for the appalling way this brute has treated you." She finished, taking a sideways look at Janos, who rolled his dark eyes away from the Ambassador.

"All the same, with this and what you previously told me, I have no ability to keep you here." He said, his tone changing from somewhat bitter as it made its way back to his calm tone. "You are free to go; your things are currently being transferred to the Tamaran embassy."

"We have an embassy here?" Star asked, somewhat confused.

"It's more like a town house in easy reach of the shopping arcade." Janos corrected himself, cutting off the Ambassador before rolling his eyes again. "But every race has one. It's a sort of...well...must have, I assume." He said as the gears started to work in Kory's mind.

"And what of..." She started, trailing off as she looked back into the cell. Nigel had rolled on to his side to look at her, his eyes were not filled with the life she had seen last night or even this morning. They were filled with something less, now, a hollow as if something was missing.

"He is bound by Blacktrinian Law. I'm sorry for you, Princess, but there is nothing I can do. He is a criminal, and not just that but a Category T criminal. He can't leave unless it is to head home for trial and punishment." He finished, looking at the man and then back at the princess before him.

"Is there nothing you can do? He's going to be a father." Kory pleaded, balling her fists and almost pounding on the chest of the large Blacktrinian man. No one could read his heart, or his emotions, at this point, but he took her wrists in hands to prevent her from doing just that.

"I am sorry; trust me when I say I am sympathetic to your plight. I am a father of a hybrid child myself and there is much care that is needed to be done from both sides. Especially when they reach their pubescent years..." He looked from her, to Nigel, to her again. "There is nothing I can do. It will take days to process things properly, but I cannot just let him go. There. Must. Be. A. Reason."

The gaze between them lasted for a second longer than was comfortable to watch. The ambassador was quietly fuming as she stormed up.

"No one on Tamaran is allowed to touch the Princess! Your superiors will-" She blustered, raising a finger and waving it at the Sergeant, coming close to almost sticking her varnished nail in his eye as she waved it back and forth.

"Please, it is alright." Kory said, quietly as she stepped away. The Sergeant let her go without any complaints and stepped back to the controls.

She took a step back to Nigel and placed her hand in his once more, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

"My oath is my bond." She whispered to him. "I will get you home. You will see your girl. Do not despair my friend." She hushed into his ear, before standing up and stepping back. "I will be back for you."

As she stepped out, the Janos gave a sympathetic look to him, before closing the force field one more time, leaving Nigel Hastings, the traitor, alone in the quiet dark.

* * *

The embassy was, as Janos had quaintly put it, a town house of considerable size and luxury. It had several meeting rooms, several armouries, a few parlours and several stately bedrooms that filled the complex. There were offices and archives and even guards to make sure no one tried anything too funny.

Starfire sat in one of stately meeting rooms, where often the Ambassadors would entertain one another, imbibe small delicacies and talk about border treaties and the displacement of colonies as if they were describing how they had mislaid a lent book. She was handed an inordinately huge goblet of a darkish purple liquid, of which she sipped gratefully. Many hours in the cell had meant many hours without much in the way of food or drink. It was almost incongruous considering how thin the stem of such a drinking cup was.

"What you ask is very much out of the question, your Highness." Ambassador Myre'm said as she sipped at her goblet and reclined in to the large, gold and red padded, chairs. "What we must now do, is set about trying to stop any scandal that might occur from you being a...close, personal associate of such a man." She fretted, placing the goblet to the floor with an audible clunk.

"He is not a bad man, Ambassador." Kory pleaded, placing her own goblet down. She had abandoned the face paint and the armour and, after a trip to the hotel, was back in her usual attire. "And is to be a father, surely there is some law that means he cannot be tried."

"Were it that simple, we would have murderers making themselves fathers before they went out to commit crimes. Blacktrinian law protects the MOTHER, my dear, not the father and that is purely because women are revered by their culture."

"Is it a matriarchy?" She asked, taking some jellied valg beast in hand and placing it into her mouth. The taste was one she could never quite replicate on earth, and if this situation were not more pressing or serious she would have savoured every mouthful. How she MISSED her native dishes.

"No, it isn't, but Mother is a powerful figure to them. Women were always seen as equals to men, sometimes betters, because a man may be bigger but a man can never be a mother. In the battle of Minosh, the generals that lead the army could not decide on what to do, and all of them were of equal rank so not one of them could order the others." She smiled, sampling the jellied valg herself and smiling in delight as she did so. "This was until one general stood and began giving orders; the general was a woman who was nursing a child at the time."

Kory, for all she might not have wanted to, appeared fascinated by the story. She always enjoyed listening to the history and pasts of others; learning of culture and practices of other people was one of her favourite pastimes. "This general, child still to her breast, spoke with such finality and purpose that the other generals deferred to her as if she was THEIR mother."

"What of fathers?" She asked, managing to wipe the rapture of story-time from her face.

"Expendable. From the dark days of their past the father is a figure that will go out and die, so the mother can carry the young." The ambassador replied, flatly. "I am sorry, but there is nothing there we can use."

"Would you be willing to help me look, then?" Kory asked, a gleam in her eye that suggested hope. The ambassador looked a little miserable for a moment, before rounding back to her forced, cheerful, smile. Starfire would take it. Forced aid was better than no aid at all.

"Again, I would be honoured to help the Crown Princess of Tamaran and her-er-let's go with friend for now." She finished, nervously, her discomfort all but a waving banner over her head. "But you must understand the delicate nature of diplomacy."

"What delicate nature, Ambassador?"

"The nature is that everything we have been doing is on the fragile shells of the Vern'art." She said, referring to a small and colourful creature, which had a delicate shell that protected it. "We have had, for lack of a better term, a tentative peace with the Blacktrinian Empire for the last...seven years, give or take. Now if we start kicking up a fuss, they'll start kicking up a fuss."

"But surely-"

"But nothing." The ambassador raised a hand. "Everything we have been trying to do for the last seven years, when it comes to the Blacktrinians, is play nice. If we start trying to use political pressure to get our way then we'll have an issue."

"But he does not deserve this!" Kory started, leaning forward to look the older woman in the eye, her passion winning out over any guise of this so called diplomacy.

"I never said he did, but you must understand we are working from a position of weakness." She countered, before indicating a terminal next to her. "I can invite the Blacktrinian Ambassador over if you want, but she'll tell you the same thing as I."

Kory went to speak, but a thud from upstairs and a muffled yell could be heard that sounded a touch familiar.

"What was that?" She asked, pointing up at the ceiling.

"Oh, that is your sister. She had been living here for a few weeks, trying to work her way back into the good books of the King in order to go home." The ambassador said rather dryly. Blackfire was still a royal, but the exile had been very public and was done when Kory was high queen. It was to protect the planet from her sister, but was not something that had any malicious intent. "She'll be working for a lot longer than she thinks."

"What, exactly, is she doing?" Kory asked, curiously as she floated a little closer to the ceiling. She could hear the word brat being yelled and the clatter of cutlery as several gooey sounds of laughter seemed to echo from the room above.

"Knowing the time?" Myre'm asked, raising a brow and looking up again. "She is probably trying to wrestle food down her children's throats without getting it on herself."

Kory shuddered. She remembered one of the very few times that she had attempted to babysit for her sister's monstrous children. They were small green blobs that could generate their own lightning and looked, remarkably, like their father; the so called invader of Tamaran, Glrdsklechhh. Admittedly, it was part of a plot to dump Kory with the little green blobs and take her place on earth, but it hadn't worked. Though her sister's screams as the horrifying little blobs swamped her en masse was the subject of discussion of a session or two with Dr. Sid, the Titan's personal therapist.

While Kory loved babies and small children of all races, she was glad that she did not have to deal with that collection of bad genetics.

"And yet..." The ambassador sighed, resting her chin in to an open palm. "They are currently the heirs to the throne. I weep for our people." She grumbled, taking another jellied Valg.

"But I decreed that Galfor would be the ruler of Tamaran; I abdicated to him!" She said, surprise radiating from her as she turned and floated back down to the Ambassador.

"Well as that may be, he does not have children of his own and he would not have the right of succession in any case." She dismissed lazily as she waved away the surprise. Infuriated, Star drew nearer and looked in to the eyes of the other Tamaran woman before her.

"What are you saying?"

A carefully manicured finger jabbed at the finely toned muscles that made up the heroine's stomach.

"You have to make an heir. The line of succession is Galfor, you, your children, Kormand'r's children, Kormand'r. After his rule, long may it last, the crown jumps back to _**your**_ lineage. If we are to have a half breed, I'd rather it be one that looks SLIGHTLY like it's supposed to." She growled, a look of annoyance crossing the diplomat's face.

"That cannot be it, surely." Kory took a step back, out of the reach of the probing finger. "There are cousins, nieces, nephews-"

"Again, it's always more complicated, and we can try and wrangle and manoeuvre things, but the main problem is that your line still exists. You are still the crown princess though you abdicated; you still have a responsibility to your people!"

"Do not tell me what I have a responsibility to!" She yelled, clenching her fist tight. The palm with the slash across it stung, the bandage was soaked through and had she would need a fresh one before the day was out. "I did right by them, and will continue to do so! I am the representative of our people in my new home and right now my responsibility is to them and to the man that sits in that cell!"

"As if politics care about some half-baked WAR OATH!" Myre'm returned the yell with a shout, standing up so fast that her chair was thrown back a foot as she locked eyes with the Princess. "Politics must deal with the fates of nations, of generations! We cannot, and will not, throw away seven years of patient negotiation for some lowborn Blacktrinian traitor because he is the father of the creature in your belly!"

Even though the last part was not true, by any stretch of the imagination, the implication still hurt and the words cut deep.

"How DARE you!"

"How dare I?! I've been working to try and keep OUR people safe! To ensure that we have trade routes and contracts, so that we can rebuild our nation as part of this new galactic community! YOU, your highness, and your Sister have both been off gallivanting around alien worlds. If we are to face facts, then let us face them!" She stepped closer to the princess, her face twisted in to a righteous anger.

"To what end?"

"The Blacktrinian Empire is a war beast that is on a very tight chain! If that chain snaps, we will not survive another hundred years! Our resources are spent, our people are tired and it was only because their own people started to have the same issues as well that we even got the CHANCE for diplomacy! We cannot rush in to this like some sort of animal!"

The ambassador stepped away from the princess, trying to calm herself down as she raised a jewellery-encrusted hand to her forehead and massaged it. She took a deep breath and started over. "When your sister took control of the Tamaran crown, by proper succession I might add, she nearly ruined our work by imposing several laws that were very obviously slanted in our favour. Every change of law, every colony that did not let a Blacktrinian ship land, every SCUFFLE in a BAR, we have to examine it and reassure that it is not the start of a second Fifty Septar War."

She turned and walked back over to the princess, calmer than before. "So forgive me if I am on edge, but we have been working so hard." She sighed, looking at Kory once more. "But I can see you are set on this action."

"I am afraid so; the one sometimes must come before the many, if it is the right thing to do." The Titan nodded. She did not often think like this, but to her she would whatever it took to that "many," if it meant the Titans could live one more day than they were allotted.

"Alright…I will _**try**_." The ambassador nodded, over emphasizing the word with a clear message of how little her confidence in this attempt was. "Maybe with the promise of a half-breed future ruler, we might be able to pull a few more strings. Big, obvious, wedding ceremony, a presentation of the future prince to both peoples as a sign of unification..."

"Er, that would not be a good idea." Kory rubbed her arm. The lie was starting to overtake her, now. She either had to kill it or tell the truth. Considering the latter could cause a diplomatic incident five miles long, considering it had been get out of jail free card... "I…uh…will be very fat and not good for public eye."

"Then I MAY be able to, with a lot of work and ALOT of concessions in the future, get him life imprisonment in a mining colony." The ambassador said, rubbing her brow again.

"A Blacktrinian life is over four hundred years."

"It's better than certain death, and is probably the best I can do with limited resources." The ambassador sighed once more, placing both hands on her hips. "I'll do what I can, play what cards come to the table, but I can't promise anything."

There was another thud from upstairs, the laughs of small blobs, and the yell of pain from their mother. A smile came to Kory's lips as an idea flagged the card of memory in the back of her mind.

"Then I think I need to go to pull in a favour of my own."

* * *

Kormand'r sighed, turning slowly towards the open door as the expression of annoyance morphed into one of a patience slowly ticking away the seconds. She stood in a dining room, with her four, gelatinous-looking children making a mess with their food as she attempted, and failed, to control them. A maid and a butler both stood off to one side, waiting to clear the table and the plates.

"Well hello, sister dearest. And what, if anything, can I ignore you for today?" She asked, the tired and angry tones filling the edges of her words as she looked away from the task before her. Her hair was matted and had the occasional flake of food stuffed in it, and her eyes carried bags of exhaustion. The fire of righteous rage had given her a youthful expression, but the years of being on the run, birthing questionably violent quadruplets and living as a mother who was trying to worm her way back in to the trust of the Royal Family had taken it's fair toll.

Kory looked her sister up and down, noting for the first time, the streak of grey in her sister's otherwise perfect black hair. A part of Kory felt sorry for her. Another part remembered why she was standing in the embassy and not on her way home to earth with her companion. The latter declared Kormand'r deserved everything she got…and if she should fail Nigel because of her? More.

"You need to do me a favour, sister." She said, her tone caught somewhere between the two mental states that vied for control.

"I NEED to, do I?" Blackfire asked, her words taking on an acidic edge. "And what is it that you NEED from me, Sister Dearest." She spat, offering every intended piece of sarcasm at the end of her sentence.

"You made new laws when you were in power. I need you to go and use them for our benefit. You will go and help Scalpel from his prison!" Star said, poking a finger out to food stained chest of her sister. The hand was slapped away as one sister squared against the other.

"I don't have to do anything, and I certainly won't do it to help _**you**_!" She snarled, pointing at the four children behind her. "This is what YOUR actions and YOUR friends saddled me with! No longer could I go out when I wanted to, oh no, I'm stuck by the whims of these four little bastards!"

One of them made a noise that was somewhere between a raspberry and a burp, which garnered more anger from Kormand'r. "DON'T use that sort of language! I can because I'm an adult!" She turned back to Kory, and seemed to growl. "I'm even going grey! Look!" She demanded, grabbing and yanking at the glossy grey streak, pointing at it with a dirty, sludge covered, spoon. "All thanks to you and your selflessness!"

"You made your own bed, and you must lay in it." Kory shrugged, folding her arms.

"Yeah? Well why don't you just tell the Shadows that the great Tamaran will have a half-Blacktrinian ruler? No?" Kormand'r snarled once more. Because of their grey skin, dark eyes and black blood the Blacktrinians gained themselves the rather nasty nickname of Shadows; it was a racial slur against their appearance. Starfire did not approve and she wore it on her face.

"You know why that cannot be done." Starfire whispered even as Blackfire took a step closer to her sister, her tone going low and quiet.

"Oh yes, I do. You aren't with him, you're bedding the human. And you can't have children with him even if you tried. Oh wait, that's right, you did try. How's that working for you 'Mother'?" She hissed, so that no one else in the room apart from her sister could truly hear what was being said.

The sisters stared at one another, for a moment. The younger of the two wore a shocked expression, which soon morphed in to something cold, something...dark.

"Take the children from the room, please. I believe it is time for them to play UPSTAIRS." Kory requested, her breath coming in ragged gasps as she spoke, each word forced with the greatest of care. The maid and the butler turned to one another exchanging a significant look, before making a move towards the blobs.

"Hey! They haven't finished their dinner yet! They have to-" Kormand'r started, turning and pointing the spoon at the maid as she tried to speak. A golden orange hand shot out and grabbed the wrist of the exiled queen, pulling it back around so Blackfire was forced to look in to the face of her sister.

As the clatter of plates and the strange parping noises faded in to the background, as the door closed, Kormand'r got the chilly impression she may have, inadvertently, stepped over the line. Even at her angriest, she had seen love in her sister's eyes, sympathy or at least a pity. She was always sorry for the violence she caused to her dear, older, sister. Starfire loved her. There was no changing that.

Right?

None of that love was present. And as the door slammed shut for the final time, it was punctuated as Kory's other hand seized around Blackfire's throat and squeezed, slamming her hard into the table. For a while, longer than Kormand'r would have liked, all her younger sister did was breath ragged, hate filled, breaths through her nose in an attempt to calm herself.

The squeal of metal escaped into the air as her other hand squeezed down on the metallic gauntlet, twisting it. "-Y-you're hurting me..." She choked, attempting to offer a wry smile before it fell from her and worry replaced it.

Kory's hands started to heat up, causing various thoughts to rush through Kormand'r mind; one of which was that she was, actually, going to die this time.

"Now that I have your full attention." Star began, her expression radiating pure and unbridled rage. Unlike a red fugue, which would have left her mindlessly lashing out in destruction, this was more akin to the blue fugue that Nigel entered when he fought the strange snaked themed commandos on their floating fortress. It was cool, collected anger…controlling and manipulating and dangerous. "You wrote new laws. You are smarter than people think you are. You wrote ways and means to get your way around the Empire. Do not deny it, I know you did because I. Know. You."

"C-come on, Sis, let me go...!" She rasped. Kory shook her head, slowly.

"I was told that to persuade someone, one must offer them something they want, force them to do so or compel them with material. With one of those things you might ensure that someone does as you wish." She started, squeezing a little harder at Kormand'r's wrist started to become warmer. "Instead I will do all three."

"W-what a-are you..." She gasped beneath the fingers. Her vision was starting to swim.

"You put us in this mess. You have tried to make my life hell, and now a little girl may not ever meet her father because of YOU. A little girl I love like my own and will spoil rotten when her mother isn't looking. Now, I do not care if I never see you again, but you WILL do this for me. If you do not I will kill you. That concludes the force part of the bargain."

Kory drew closer. "If you do not do this, then before I kill you, I know where your bases are, where your hide outs are and the low places you enjoy skulking are. I will tell the Psions where all these places happen to be. I'm sure they're more than happy to get one of us back there in their little laboratories."

"You wouldn't..."

"That concludes the Blackmail portion of our game. Now, if you DO this for me, and you leave our conversation out of it, I will tell the High Ruler of our world about how useful you are, and how that he should consider allowing you back in the future. Even if he doesn't, he should reward you most handsomely for your time and effort. I can see to that."

Blackfire's vision started to go dark at the edges; she felt her head becoming lighter as she scrambled around for some form of weapon with a spare hand. Unfortunately, everything had been taken from the table, and she wasn't thinking clearly enough for her own Blackbolts to be powered. "This is something you want. Trust me."

The seconds stretched.

"Al-alright! I'll do it! I'll do it!" She gasped. Pressure was released, and almost instantly Kormand'r could feel the blood rush back into her head. The darkness faded, the dizziness started to be replaced with a hot, queasy feeling as everything came back in to focus. The Exile slipped to her knees, placing her hands to the floor as she coughed up the bad air she had been storing in her lungs. "You...You crazy..."

"One last thing." Kori said, as she knelt down. "There two young woman at the Tower…you do not know them. I finally understand how they can look at their blood relatives and see only poison. My sister is no longer you. If I ever see you again, I will not hold back. My sisters are the women at the Tower. They are my strength, and their children are my nieces and nephews. I tried to make amends, I attempted to be nice and I just wanted to love you as one sister to another; but you are obsessed with making my life miserable. I could have lived with that...but then you did this to me; you tried to make my adopted niece without a father."

She stood up again, looking down as she rage faded to pity for a moment. "I actually feel sorry for your children; they have you as a role model." She turned, heading to the door. "Get it done."

"You're...just like me in the end..." Kormand'r wheezed as she looked to where Kory was leaving. "Violence to your own ends..."

"No, I'm nothing like you. I do things for others; you only do things for yourself."

The door slammed closed as Blackfire winced once more, rubbing her throat.

Damn, her family was crazy...

* * *

Nigel sat in the dark. His clawed hand scratched another notch in the wall. It had taken him hours, but he had recovered from the electric shocks that the Sergeant had given him. The plasti-metal compound that made up the wall was somewhat unyielding, but he scratched anyway. It was something to pass the time until...

...No. He would not allow his mind to traverse those dark paths of thought. He had to trust in Starfire. He had to trust in her ways and methods, in her heart and spirit and in the oath. The dark grey stain on his claws reminded him; it was a physical barrier to his despair. If there was anyone that could defy the will of an empire it would have been Kory.

But it had been hard. The shadow of the empire, the shadow of a past he had so long tried to fight, rose above him in an attempt to swallow him whole. He had been so careful for years, and aside from that initial issue with the White Hole known as Rebecca Styles, there had been no other problems, really. Certainly, she had come back; cloning technology was something the Blacktrinians had stolen from one of the first races under their thumb, but she was staying away from Florida and that was exactly how Nigel liked it.

He had watched a few holo-vids while he was imprisoned. The Jailer had been kind enough to allow him some form of entertainment other than picking at the walls. It had been years since he saw the Blacktrinian stage show "Lights in the Dark", or the movie "Trapped on Planet 311". He watched a cooking show with a giant spider-like woman, who instructed that the best meat could be found past Phobos Minor.

It was but a temporary reprieve, however; ever looming, ever waiting, in the back of his mind was the future…or rather the lack of a future. He shook his head again; he couldn't let it seep in.

He picked at the walls again, drawing a long score down as he finished the last word, etched in English. It was a simple decree.

'Sophie, Mary, I love you.'

They had spent ages on names, only for Noel to walk up and remind them that he had met their daughter and she liked the name she had. Sophie wanted to name her Angela after her mother, and Nigel wanted to name her…anything but his mother's name. Yet, Angela didn't work for him either. So, they had stuck with Mary. Mary Angela Hastings. Sophie had insisted on the Hastings; she didn't want her little girl to have anything to do with the Mathews family.

A change in the air noted that the door to the cell was open. The Thanagar jailer stood there, a man bigger than Nigel had imagined, with the key in one hand and a short axe in the other. Nigel knew that the end of that axe had a pulse weapon in it...he remembered the attempted invasion by Thanagar, and he knew what those things could do.

They hurt, a lot.

"Come on." The jailer barked, his voice filled with age. Nigel rolled over and on to his feet stiffly. While he had recovered, his body still ached from the electric shock it had received and his muscles didn't exactly want to play the game. It was hard to see much of the jailer's face, his head was obscured by the traditional beaked mask of all the Thanagar peoples, and what wasn't mask was beard, which was large and bushy, something a lumberjack might have to protect against the cold.

Nigel held up his hands and placed them behind his head in a show of compliance. He had been fighting from a position of weakness. If he missed his timing he would be stuck back in the cell, with no way out, he had to be more careful than ever.

The weakness had crept into him earlier when the electricity struck. His bones still felt as if they tingled, and the spark when he rubbed his claws together was a bit brighter, a bit bluer. He felt frail, and it was not something he enjoyed the feeling of. He had been small all of his life, and just when he was the one who could stand up on his own and declare that he was not afraid, he was reminded there were always someone bigger out there.

"May I ask..." He started, his common tongue had not improved much in the last twenty-four hours, but he knew enough to be going on with.

"Sergeant Oswald would care for a word." The Thanagar warrior barked gruffly before he could finish, brooking no other conversation as he pushed the smaller man forward. It wasn't a cruel shove, to prove dominance, but a nudge to remind him he should be walking faster.

Sergeant Oswald wanted to meet with him, probably to fill out some information or interrogate him. Find out what happened that day when a scared boy ran to the hills and never looked back, blood of a dying squad member drying on his claws and the certain knowledge that he had killed one of his own kind, even if it was in self defence. There was little doubt he would be asked to relive it in detail, very soon.

There were so many words in that statement that could be cut out to turn a scared teenager in to a callous bastard, abandoning the line. He couldn't take that risk, even if he knew the truth, he could not let it get that far. There would be no hope or no release from his torments if that were to come out at trial. If his words were to be twisted back on him into some unrecognizable monster, then he was doomed before he started.

Then again, he probably was anyway.

The walk seemed longer than he wanted it to be. It was as if he were walking to death row with his own personal guard to make sure he didn't run. The analogy wasn't exactly too far from the truth. But he'd have to try, only then could he at least say he did everything he could to get back home. A bend in the corridor was up soon, and that meant he had an opportunity. It was the last kink in an otherwise straight, if not wavy, corridor and that meant he could try something a little tricky.

If he turned the corner sharply, quicker than the hawk man, he could use the walls and jump up before coming down hard against the jailer. That would allow him the momentum to get through his heavy headgear and disarm him in the fall. If he was staggered, take the weapon and stun him with it; it shouldn't have been too difficult to work out mechanically speaking.

Then again, theory and practice never seemed to cooperate.

At least then though, he'd have a weapon. He would have to get out though a building full of police without being noticed. That would be significantly harder, but he'd have to cross that bridge when he came to it. He reached the corner, and turned around it sharply, cutting across the thinnest line to make up a few extra milliseconds...

...And ran straight in to Kory, who stood outside the office against the wall that Nigel was going to vault off of. Damn, that was a perfectly good plan he would have to save for later.

"Kory, what..."

"I think you're wanted inside." She said, offering a big hug and a quiet smile. Relief filled him as he returned the hug, but there was still the air of dread given that he was still inside a police station, in the middle of a populated and automated space station, that was also in the middle of deep space. Oh, and it was filled with people who wanted to ship him off to be executed.

He stepped inside. At a desk, piled high with data slates and a little, paper pulp, notebook sat Janos. There was a picture frame upon his desk on one side and a floating holographic screen towards the other. A Blacktrinian touch-type interface glowed under his claws, in which he was holding a pen. On the wall was a moving, holographic painting of the view of the Palace Guarden on Blacktrinia Prime, the sound of light rain and a gentle breeze filled the edges of the room.

"Sit down." Janos commanded, pointing at the empty chair. Unlike before, this one was designed with more comfort in mind. As he sat, he realized he was doing so besides Blackfire, who looked a little worse for wear. "Could you repeat to him what you just told me?" Janos asked, turning the pen over in his clawed fingers.

"He's a criminal." She stated, bluntly.

"I meant the bit after that." The sergeant said, rubbing the bridge of his nose with the tips of his claws. Today had been a long day and he really, really wanted to get home.

Nigel could relate.

"He has committed a crime by Tamaranean law." She started, in a slight sing-song voice of annoyance, as if she was talking to one of her children; the one that thought it would be a good idea to use mother's favourite dress as a tent last week to be specific. "He has committed an act of violence against a member of the Tamaran Royal Family."

"Namely...?" The sergeant prompted, trying to draw an answer out of the exiled Queen a bit more quickly than this.

"He tackled me to the floor and tried to hit me. That, I think you'll find, is assault."

"I think you'll find you don't have to tell me my job." Janos growled roughly, as he looked between the two. "So what is it you want, exactly?" He asked, raising a hand and placing a dark stained fore-claw against his temple. "Double death? He's going back to the Prime world for treason and I'm pretty sure you know what that means."

"No, he's not." Blackfire sniffed, haughtily, as she straightened up. "He's being extradited to Tamaran, where he will face punishment."

The sergeant boggled at her a moment, the pen slipping from his clawed grasp and hitting the table with a clatter.

"You would do well to run that by me one. More. Time." He said, his eyes focusing on the black haired woman. She shrugged as if she was talking to a mere imbecile and gave a long-suffering sigh.

"Fine, if I must spell it out; article seventy, paragraph three, amendment one, states that a criminal who has committed a crime against the people or the crown of Tamaran can be extradited to Tamaran held territory and punished by Tamaran planetary law."

Janos was only half listening, trying to remember the amendment numbers as he pulled up the file on the holo-screen. He scrolled through the bylaws created by the agreement between Tamaran and the Empire when they became tense allies.

"Amendment...ah, yes, here it is. Amendment the second, however, states that they are not to be done so if the crime in Blacktrinian held territories is greater than those of the Tamaran states." He said, reading through it.

"That then leads to the third Amendment. Unless the crime is of equal standing, in which case it is referred back to the first amendment of this charter." She smiled, actually enjoying the word games. It was strange; she had spent so long avoiding the legal systems of so many worlds she actually seemed to enjoy writing confusing legal documentation. It was a bizarre turn of events, one she would have to look in to. "It is a crime against the crown of Tamaran, which is a capital crime. And before you say it, an assault on the royal family is tantamount to an assault on the king himself."

Janos rubbed his forehead again, taking a deep breath.

"Why do you people do this to me?" He asked himself, checking through the files and the folders, trying to find some wiggle room.

"I don't know. Perhaps you just deserve it?" Kormand'r asked. She was already pushing her luck, but just to be extra-insufferable, she picked up the picture frame and turned it around. It was a backlit photograph of a young girl, no more than sixteen if she was a day. She had a beautiful smile, but seemed to have rather dulled teeth for a Blacktrinian. Strange freckles and the greenest eyes anyone could ever see shone from the smile. "Cute kid. Yours?"

The Sergeant snapped out a hand, grabbed the picture and slammed it face down on the desk, his face a painting of indignation.

"So let me get this straight." He started, growling deeply as he stood up and looked down at the people in front of him, his claws biting into the desk as he did so. "You are telling me that we have found a deserter, who is a category T criminal, we have him dead to rights and locked in our prison cell, awaiting transportation back to the prime world." He pointed at Blackfire. "And you are telling me that he is going to be extradited to your world for punishment because of a shove in a maternity store. That your ambassador will clear things up with mine and that will be THAT?!"

A pause hung in the air.

"...That's about the size of it. She should be done handing out the little sandwiches to your diplomat by now." Blackfire commented, shrugging and examining her nails. Janos' face shifted into a pallet of calm.

"...Good. Thank-you for your cooperation. Don't let me detain you and have a pleasant day." He said with the infuriating calm of someone who had just gotten their way as he sat back down, placed the picture back upright and started to jot some notes in to his notebook.

The Titan and the Titan's long time foe sat there for a moment, trying to figure out what just happened as they looked at each other, and then at the Sergeant, and back again. Nigel's stress addled brain managed to grasp a phrase he had once heard Adam use…Blue Screen of Death. Yes…his brain was now the Blue Screen of Death…please, leave a message after the beep and maybe Nigel would get back to you.

"That's it?" She asked. When he looked up, he seemed almost shocked they were still sat there.

"...Pretty much." He said, closing the notebook and picking up the picture to adjust it with a delicate care. "This has gone over my head, now. This is political, and therefore none of my concerns. It is above and beyond my pay grade." He shrugged as he leaned back in the squeaking chair, interlocking his fingers across his midsection. "I'm a thief taker, Miss. I'm not a bureaucrat or a diplomat, I grab criminals. So long as the criminal gets punished, I don't rightly care what court happens to do the punishing."

"So I can go?" Nigel asked, raising a brow.

"No, you're in the company of her highness, the Former Queen, as well as the Crown Princess that is standing outside the door." He nodded to the shadow, which seemed to jerk in surprise and slip back to the shade of the wall. "You'll be taken to Tamaran sovereign territories where you will be sentenced to your crime. I suggest you go now, as it will take me a few hours to write the report."

Janos sighed. "I'll have to break out the dictionary with all the long words in it."

"Er, yes…um...right..." Nigel looked up, before slipping to his feet and making his way over to the door, with Blackfire in hot pursuit. Shaking, his legs were shaking. He was utterly sure of it.

"Oh and Doctor?" Janos asked, looking up from his work, and straight at the younger alien man. The Titan turned, looking back at the man behind the desk. Dread began to seep back in…

"Yes, Sergeant?"

"Merry Christmas." He said, in passable English.

A shiver clawed its way down Nigel's spine, but at this point he'd take freedom with a little bit of creepy any day.

And as soon as the door was open, he ran as fast as he could to the Embassy of Tamaran.

* * *

"So, you are telling me they had you, in the cells, waiting to be sent to your execution and they just let you go?" Noel asked, looking between the two aliens, who nodded at the same time. During several points in that story, the Titans had clustered closer and closer, watching for signs of lying or exaggeration. Sophie and Ryce were drying their eyes, having burst out in tears at more than one occasion. A few of the others around the circle were also trying to beat back the tears, and they didn't even have hormones to blame...

"As soon as he arrived at the Embassy he was greeted with three armed Tamaranian guards, marched to a meeting room where he was promptly exiled from Tamaran space." Kory finished, holding a hand out to indicate Nigel. All the Titans could see the hot red line that crossed her palm in a diagonal slash where the wound had closed neatly. It still looked raw and inflamed, but it was well on its way to mending.

"I RAN. I'm not ashamed to say it, I ran as fast as I could for the T-ship and I hardly looked back to see Kory there. She had sent word ahead to the hotel for our things to be delivered to the shipping bay, loaded on and we left as soon as we could."

"It was most lucky." She agreed, mopping her brow in a rather theatrical manner.

"Why do you say that?" Tim asked, his eyes moving to her with a concern in them he tried not to show.

"As soon as we were underway, a ship with a contingent of Blacktrinian soldiers arrived. We got out just in the neck of time."

"Nick, Kor." Tim corrected, anxiously. Her story of her encounter with Kormand'r had unsettled him somewhat. "What about your sister?"

"She was given a glowing recommendation. She is currently being sent on other diplomatic assignments as a law-master with the promise of consideration to be returned to Tamaran in the future." She shook her head, dismissively, however and turned to look at the women that surrounded them. "She is not my sister, though. She just shares my genetics. The women here are my sisters, and you are all my family." She smiled, her glowing grin warming the room once more.

"But…you nearly strangled her, you could have killed her, Kor." Tim continued, worry creeping in to his features.

"And las' summer I exploded my brother all over my face with a sword and sent him into Oblivion," Ryce reminded him coolly, "Blood may be thick…but it carries poisons in it jus' as easily as water. Star showed restraint. She should have ripped her tongue out of her head at the root."

Star looked down, at her knees and offered a weak grin.

"I could not have done any of that. It was…not the same as the White Call. For all that she had done to me, for all she had attempted to do, I could not have killed her. Part of me still wants her to be my sister, and part of me knows I would be letting everyone down if I were to harm her." She looked up at him again. "I do not think I could live with myself if I had killed her if it were not necessary, and I do not think I could have done it anyway."

Tim paused for a moment, before placing his hand in hers and leaning forward to give her a kiss.

"Glad you got back okay, Kori."

She smiled and mouthed the words; "so am I" at him, before snuggling close together. Sophie, meanwhile, seemed to be puzzling over a few things, alongside Raven.

"I wonder what he's doing now, or why he was so sympathetic." The sorceress asked, running a hand across her chin.

"Dentists to gift horses, are we?" Adam asked, sitting back and kicking his feet up to the table. Somewhere along the line he and Ryce had switched spots, her head now rest on his thigh and the baby draped across her chest. Raven shrugged and put her hand down, just as Sophie raised hers in the air in triumph.

"Wait, I think I know." She declared, pulling herself up to sit up a little straighter.

"How?" Gauntlet asked, bemused.

"Call it a hunch, but just in case let me double check a few things." She said, tapping her rounded chin with a finger with a smile crossing her dark red lips. "He jumped to the conclusion that you two were having a child together?"

"Er, yes?" Star said, flushing a little with embarrassment at telling such a lie, and at the fact that it had come off the heels of Sophie punching Nigel for being unfaithful.

"And he had a child of his own? Of mixed parentage?"

"Yes?" Star, somewhat, confirmed.

"And he said it was a teenager?"

"According to the photo, yes." Nigel nodded, recalling it from his office.

"And the war ended, what, seven years ago?" She continued, her smile broadening as she was getting facts from the story after fact correct.

"Ye-wait, you don't think..." Kory and Nigel said together, pointing at Sophie.

"Ryce, could you-"

"Way ahead of you, Sophie." She smiled and pulled the Orb from her pocket.

* * *

Sergeant Oswald was late. He hated being Late. He had tried to be as punctual and as proper as he could be, given the circumstances, and he followed the letter of the law rather than just the spirit. He had promised to be home for the mid-day meal, but he hadn't. He'd missed it; it was now the afternoon and he was late.

The personal shuttle touched down on a rather backwater planet called Keoris 4. It had been so remote that only a few farming communities really settled the planet. Life was hard, but families were made stronger for it. He powered the shuttle down and removed the Virtual Intelligence ignition key, slipping it in to his jacket before he popped the catch and clambered out.

The day was warm, and while most Blacktrinians preferred the cooler climes of their home planet, Janos knew this place was best for not only his wife's but his daughter's wellbeing. The moist, sunless, atmosphere of Blacktrinia Prime would not be conducive to her, and at the end of the day Janos wanted his family to be safe.

Standing on the purplish grass that led between the shuttle pad and the house, he stretched in a large manner. His bones felt like they were fighting him, until one or two joints popped in a satisfactory manner. His version of endorphins caused his back to tingle lightly. He'd been standing up and then sitting down for a little too long as his superior threw a fit. This of course was followed by his superior's superiors doing the same.

The grass crunched under his metallic feet as he looked in to the distance. Blacktrinian eyes, especially in sunny environments, were never particularly good. Even in the dim-lit world of their own, their eyes often were one of their weaker senses. He felt he could see two familiar shapes stood by the door to the farmhouse. One was moving towards him. He picked up the breathing and the laughs and knew, at once, he need not fear.

"Welcome home, Father!" The girl almost tackled the strong police officer to the ground, hugging him tightly. Her eyes, though they contained the black sclera of her father, were always a rather unusual green shade. Her skin had a strange tint to it, as if the grey was a semi-translucent layer. Ears came to a more narrow point than his did, more pixie and less knife-like. She was also very tall for her age. Then again, her mother seemed like a giant to the Sergeant.

"I swear you get stronger by the day!" He said, having the wind nearly knocked out of him. He returned her rather enthusiastic hug.

"Mother says I get it from her side of the family." She spoke, her voice full of joy and cheerfulness as he walked with her up the path.

"Of course she would, you know your Mother." He laughed. He never laughed while on duty, he often didn't laugh while in the presence of others. It was something that he gave to his family and to those that he truly cared for. A little marker of respect most would never pick up on. "I say it's my side that you garnered that particular talent from, but let's not tell your Mother, alright?"

"Heh heh, oh all right, Father." She rolled her eyes as she travelled with him. She made no sound while moving, and unlike her father, her feet and hands were covered in boots and gloves rather than the traditional metal constructions.

"So, my little Fae, how was your day?" He asked, patting her on the back as they continued. The synth-material felt strange under his claws, but then again there was an abundance of foliage on the prime-planet. They were very useful for natural materials so the synthetics always struck him as unusual.

"Pretty boring really, had a load of chores to do but I got them all done, and-"

They both stopped, because before them stood a woman. She wore a traditional garb of a peacekeeper, looking down at the shorter Blacktrinian man and his daughter with an impression of annoyance more than anything else. She seemed almost hostile, an absolute opposite to the expressions of the two that had approached the farmhouse. Her skin was the rich colour of a setting sun, and her eyes were a bright green. Her uniform was one of the armoured varieties and while it showed no skin, it couldn't hide the powerful physique that it covered. Commanding arms were wrapped around her torso, having crossed her arms. Her hands were currently holding something. Blonde hair was pulled back, but held loose as it flowed down her back in a sheet of gold that rocked and moved of its own accord. Lastly, the faded line of a scar ran across her nose horizontally.

"You have some explaining to do." She said. Janos raised his hands, as if surrendering, as did Fae who looked sheepishly to the ground.

"We surrender?" Janos proffered as she pulled what she was holding from under her arm. It happened to be a boot.

"When you said you were going to look after that creature of yours, you said you'd train him out of this!" She said to Fae, who looked with some fear at the purple boot. It had looked expensive at the time of purchase, and in a traditional Tameranian style. This was fortunate, given she was, herself, from Tamaran. She was speaking in Blacktrininan, however, with a natural fluency given over years.

"I'm sorry, Mother!" Fae pleaded with the sound of genuine repentance in her voice as she brought her two balled fists together in front of her face. This was a gesture of apology on many worlds. "I thought Glitch had worked that one out! I'm sorry!" The crunch of grass under boot was heard as Fae landed, having been floating and flying when she had tackled her father. It would seem the joy of flight was replaced with the mortification that she'd done wrong by her loving parents.

The peacekeeper brought the boot down from between them and floated to the teenage girl. She then leant down and placed a kiss upon her forehead, her armour making strange clunking sounds as moved.

"You are quite forgiven, my child. Let it not happen again, of course." The peacekeeper placed the boot into the young hybrid's hands. She nodded and flew off after her pet Snay; that mangy little thing had been trained not to do this, and it wasn't fair to show itself up to mother. "As for you..."

Janos had almost made it to the front door as he heard her land behind him. "You said you'd be back for lunch, at the latest. It is almost time for dinner." She said, placing a hand on his shoulder and turning him around. He looked up at the taller woman, who in her day had been a commando that had attempted to capture the Sergeant when he was but a mere corporal, though he wasn't a mere anything considering what he was a corporal of. He looked up at her, still in peak physical condition, still immense in every sense of the word. He offered a rare smile, though it carried with it certain tiredness.

"We found a Category-T today, Scar." He said, offering a shrug.

"You hurt? Everything okay?" She asked, in quick-fire succession as her mood changed once more as if someone had flipped a light-switch.

"Yeah, turns out he was a deserter. Evidence pointed to having run off during a push on the Tameranian supply lines about eight years ago." Janos thought back to his notes, his notebook unfortunately having been taken by his superior for inspection of foul play. "Might have been seven, now I think about it."

"How'd you find him?" She asked, having stopped leaning over him in an aggressive manner and was now leaning on him, holding him close.

"Stupid kid walked in with his girlfriend, who happened to be the crown princess of Tamaran. Apparently they needed to get medical supplies." He shook his head, offering a chuckle. She wrapped her other arm around him, holding him close and resting her head on his. He always felt small when she did this, but after all they'd been through this was exactly what he wanted on occasion. Besides, she was huge in terms of sheer height; she made everyone feel small.

"You have got to be joking!" She said, laughing as she turned her head a little and almost nuzzled the side of his head.

"No word of a lie, you know me." He said, raising a hand in the universal gesture of truth telling with the other on one of his hearts. "I figured who he was the day before and was going to let him go...then they were involved in a brawl with the Exiled Queen of your world in the middle of the Future-to-Be store on Zeta Level."

"Future-to-Be?" Scar asked incredulously as a leg wrapped across the front of the Sergeant. He raised a brow and smirked to himself, but he didn't stop her from slowly wrapping around him as if she was some sort of cosmic snake.

"It's a store for soon-to-be parents. Maternity clothes, gene-therapies for hybrids, you name it and they have it." He said, with a laugh in his voice. "You're not even paying attention at this point are you?"

"No, no, I am. I just missed you, that's all." She said into his ear. "Please continue, and don't mind me." She said as she lightly nibbled on the tip of his ear, causing him to flush black with certain feelings. He cleared his throat in an attempt to regain his composure, but this wasn't easy when you could feel your wife's hot breath running in your ear.

"But yes, all said and done the young fool got arrested. I bluffed for time, drawing out every report and doing everything I can just to gain a little more room. Eventually he got handed over to the Tamaran Authorities. I was glad to be rid of him; I didn't want to be the biggest hypocrite in the universe, running away from the war for a girl." He finished as she kicked the door open and pulled him inside.

"Done listening; you get undressed, now." Scar laughed and leaned out of the door quickly as Janos complied, with as much reluctance as most would if they were offered free money with no catch. "Fae!"

Fae flew back rapidly, hovering in mid-air as she was currently wrestling the remains of the boot from out of the mouth of a large, smooth, creature. Something you'd get if you mixed an alligator with a killer whale. It was strangely familiar.

"Yes Mother?" she asked, floating a little closer.

"I know you've been seeing someone, romantically speaking, from the neighbouring farm." Scar said, almost sternly, as the daughter nearly dropped the animal in her arms. "You can't hide things from two police officers."

"M-Mother, it's not anything, I mean, it's all-" She stammered, flushing crimson, which looked strange on her skin. Skin that looked as if someone had left something orange out in the rain and most of the colour had ran out.

"Hush, darling, hush." She cooed, before reaching in to her pocket and pulling out a credit chit. "As long as you two don't go too far, go take him to a holo-show or something!" She smiled, the scar across her nose raising a little as she laughed. Fae caught the chit and, still blushing, flew off in to the distance to go grab a date for this evening. Glitch, the Snay, was content to continue to chew the boot on the front porch.

She closed the door as Janos opened up the armour cupboard and dumped his gauntlet rather unceremoniously inside. She did the same, throwing armour in a haphazard fashion. Then, she was pushing him backwards, into the darkness of the house as they continued to disrobe.

And as husband and wife spent time in one another's company, the only thing that seemed to fill the dark room was the light spilling from a strip inside the armaments cupboard. It reflected off many things inside, but one of those was a bright white suit. It was of Blacktrinian cut and everything, the buttons, the ranking stripes, even the repair stitching and armour plates, were a gleaming bright white. Next to it on a holo-tablet, now active due to the thrown armour pressing a button in the right way, was a communication from his superiors. It talked about him being AWOL, and as there was no great proof as to why he was absent for so long. The "Captured" excuse didn't hold much water.

However, they also had no evidence to the contrary. As such they had no choice but to relieve him of the lofty position of Corporal that he had occupied within the White Hole Corp. He was reminded of what a mercy this is, as most that had gone AWOL during engagements were considered traitors, having committed treason against the crown of state. He should thank his stars he was part of the Corp or he would have been killed on the spot, they had said.

And he did, every day, as he thought about the passionate embrace of his Tamaranian commando wife, meeting her and fighting, creating the oath of Hazzurn ridge and finding each others' true worth. All this, before the pressure of war and torment forced them in to each other's arms to try and escape an injustice that could be stopped if only people listened. He thought about marrying her in secret when she snuck back to him on the front lines, her belly already swollen large with their daughter. The difficult birth, hiding as a Tamaran strike-force, engaged two White Hole guards who were trying to find their respective deserters and inadvertently killing each other. Escaping in to the Tamaran wilderness for just the time it took for the child to grow strong on mothers' milk to survive space-travel. Finding a place, and hiding the uniforms, as they took on lives of simple folk doing a simple job. He remembered when peace was declared and, a few weeks later, how he and Scar shared their first kiss in public after nearly nine years together. He still laughed at his pardon from AWOL, as Scar was also pardoned due to capture by the enemy, which they blamed on one another. He thought about how their beautiful daughter who was growing up strong and fast, and the fact he had a job bringing justice to people and not people to justice.

He thanked his stars every day, and he very much considered himself lucky.

Then again...

"Wait-" Janos said, almost breathlessly, pulling away from Scar with a concerned look on his face. "-Fae's seeing someone? Who is it? What's their name?"

"Hush." Scar smiled a crooked smile, a bead of sweat running down her neck and in to the groove of an old injury as she looked at him. "Play father later, play lover now."

"Yes Ma'am."

* * *

"Aaaaaand connection cut. Sorry Sophs…M'not watching two old aliens get it on."

"Aw stop! It was sweet." She joked, a crimson flush coming to her cheeks as she leant back in to the arms of her own alien lover. Nigel just cleared his throat as he, too, blushed.

"What a jerk!" Tara spat, a scowl twisting her usually cute features. "He arrested you for doing what he did before you!"

"You can't blame him-" Tim started, leaning in to the much taller Kory. Now that he was sitting in her grasp it made a lot of sense why she was the big spoon, as it were. "-You heard him; he was going to let Nigel go but he couldn't disappear someone causing a fight unless the fight itself could be covered up."

"But with that little extra time, we managed to get out safe enough." Kory smiled, leaning down and kissing the top of Tim's head in a loving way.

"Still, Thank-you Kory; once again I owe you my life. We'll never be able to pay back your kindness." Nigel said, offering a small bow. He would have offered a larger one, but currently he was being blocked by his partner.

"Very sweet." Vic started, nodding and leaning back on his part of the sofa. "Who's next?"

"Man, are you guys in for a treat..." Rob started, standing up.

"Oh no." Noel groaned, hiding his face and being given a rather reassuring pat on the back by his Fiancé.

* * *

((As usual; thanks to TerRaine and Sloth for all their help on this chapter. The next chapter is written by them entirely. There may be some delays because of more important things but the story is still going to be posted; it just going to be past Christmas. Hope you guys enjoy and see you in chapter 4!))


	4. Uberton

**Chapter 4: Uberton**

(Chapter written with great thanks by Sloth and TerRaine)

December 24th

"So I guess that would be us on the 5th," Ryce nodded in agreement with Rob, having interrupted him as she stroked her baby's back. The up and down motion made him coo happily, much to the delight of the adults gathered around him. Sophie couldn't help but blush and wish to hold him tight, but her extended pregnancy lead to her being a bit more broody than usual.

Despite having his parentage, to put it delicately, working against him Zane Morgan Matthews was by far one of the cutest and sweetest babies any of them had ever encountered. Clearly to prove this undeniable cosmic point, the child gave a tiny, toothless yawn, poking his wee, pink tongue out as if he was trying to taste his own lips.

After such a strenuous exercise, he nuzzled into his mother's chest, gumming on his fist peacefully. "Though you lot will be able to guess a big part of it," Ryce finished with a smile.

"…seriously," Tara intoned dryly to the family, "where did you two steal him from? Nothing that adorable came from either of your loins."

Rob gave a laugh as he settled into the floor, glancing at the baby and back to the blonde geo-kenetic.

"Oh, he's theirs. Trust me, I was there." He thumbed to his chest, offering a smirk which was underlined with a genuine happiness for the new parents.

"He's a tiny clone of his dad, too," Jinx chuckled, tipping her beer bottle towards the father-made pillow Met had become, rather willingly.

"Those are Ryce's eyes," Sophie countered, waving her fingers at her little nephew. Genetics didn't connect Miss Mathews and Mr Matthews you would have to use a crowbar to separate her from idea of the awesome, if morbid, aunt.

"Their child would be Harry Potter," Garfield chuckled, getting an elbow from Tara as she rolled her eyes.

Ryce and Met didn't chime in; they were too busy watching the baby's minute movements with a sort of peace that was never really seen in her…nor in Adam, whose perpetual calm lacked something that he now had.

It was a surreally sweet and warm sight. After all the hardships of all the tower's occupants, it was good to see someone had a happy ending, as it were.

There had been doubts when their maid had sprung their "surprise" on the others, especially as the delivery of such news was a photograph of an ultrasound with Ryce's name under it pinned to the fridge. After all, it was Ryce and Metatron; adding a baby to that volatile, often figuratively and literally explosive mix? It seemed like some sort of sick prank. With his random, chaotic nature and her…well…terrible all-around behavior, a train wreck seemed almost like a guarantee.

From her chest, Zane let out a fussy gurgle, only for two sets of hands to begin patting his back in comfort.

It never quite worked out like anyone expected, with these two. Then again that was chaos in a nutshell.

"Well, this should be good…looking forward to hearing the reasoning behind you stealing my baby without asking is," Victor grumbled, casting a very dark look on the three; though it was much like being savaged by a rather mean looking feather pillow.

"Rob was supposed to," Met nodded towards Gauntlet.

"Ryce was supposed to" Rob countered, pointing a finger at the maid.

"I told Adam to." Ryce continued, thumbing towards Metatron.

"The T-Car is not your slave, white devil," Met ended, glaring at Cyborg with a fist raised as if he was some sort of soviet proletariat poster…if he wasn't currently being used as a bed by Zane.

"Alright, alright…no circles. What happened to you guys?" Jinx cut in, forestalling her boyfriend's sputtering before he could explode with the buildup of confusion.

"Well…it started at my parent's house…" Rob said, leaning back against the sofa and held his arms out wide, as if he was inviting the men and women before him in to a secret adventure, which, in a way, he was.

* * *

December 5th

The T-Car, freshly gassed up and a long way from home, rattled to rest in the driveway of the comfortable house; it was relatively modern in construction but of a moderate scale not found in a lot of building projects with a garage and two stories to its name.

Uberton, South Carolina, was a city widely categorized as "organized chaos", with its overwhelming large population of meta-humans; this ranged from the good, the bad, and the frankly just didn't care one way or the other. It was a familiar place and hometown to one of the Titan's own.

Robert "Gauntlet" Candide slipped out from the driver's side door, stretching his legs and back in only partial exaggeration – eight hours of driving can put a dent in a man. Normally, he might have been able to make the commute from Florida to home in six or seven, give or take an hour for traffic or even try and sneak a plane ticket in to birdarang budget.

Normally, he didn't have a passenger who couldn't fly and needed to stop every hour or so for food and/or bathroom breaks. He made a point to remember to pack a bag of supplies for the trip back…and an empty bottle, or can or something. Not that he was annoyed, or even really minded the breaks; he could understand them considering her condition. In fact, they'd been a lot better behaved than he'd been dreading when he agreed to take them along.

"…I want broiled hamburger meat and sriracha sauce…with cucumber dices…and capers," Ryce announced from the back seat, waiting for Adam to help her out. This had just been one of the various items on the menu that she had demanded on her trip.

"I don't know if my parents have those," Rob admitted, "or if those are all food. What the hell is Sriracha sauce?" His question fell on deaf ears as there was the click of the car's back doors.

From the other side of the back seat, Met made his way out. Coming around, he opened the rear door, and offered the young woman inside his arm. A delicate hand took it with a tired but grateful look as the half-angel attempted to haul herself out of the confined space, to her feet. Assuming they were still there, that is. She hadn't seen proof of them in weeks.

"…m'I allowed to have sushi?" she asked, clinging to Met as she faltered in relocating her center of gravity, there seemed to be no getting used to her body.

Met frowned apologetically, "No," he shrugged, "I'm sorry."

"…I haven't eaten raw meat in seven months and s'bullshit" she sulked, finally out of the vehicle and moving her way along with a humorless look, "…And m'waddlin'…why m'I waddlin'? S'too early to have to waddle."

"Because you're my beautiful pregnant penguin," Met smiled, hugging her from behind, his hands slipping around the all-too-obvious swell of her pregnant stomach. She appeared to be in the late stages of it, amplified by her own diminutive size, making it seem she was a bit bigger and further along than she actually was. At least, that's what Sophie told her when they commiserated over cake, amongst many-a talk about just neutering their children's fathers and save themselves the trouble of this ever happening again. Needless to say, both men lived in constant fear of their soulmates.

The trash tabloids had a field day when two of the tower's occupants, both of whom were civilians as far as the papers were concerned, found themselves to be expecting at the same time. Some of the comments were just brainless information, as the gossip rags had a tendency to do, while others were mindless as they spoke of conspiracy theories and plots. Nigel had a particular dislike of the papers assuming he was some alien monster here to steal the earth's women as if he was some sort of monstrous alien villain from the 1950s.

"I miss my ankles…and high heels…and meat…and booze…cigarettes…coffee…and not worryin' 'bout if my unborn child kickin' me in the bladder can make me wet myself," she grumbled, pausing for a second to purse her lips, "and not being compared to a penguin as a compliment. Are they home, Robbie?"

"They should be…" Gauntlet said, stepping back to look at the house. He couldn't deny that he was grateful to see the old homestead again, with the familiar sights and smells. "Louis definitely is, see?" he nodded to the fumes and random noises coming out from one of the upstairs windows. Of course this was mostly ignored by the couple who seemed to be busy with their own business.

"Your ankles are just as beautiful as you remember them," The Local Boy heard Ryce's husband whisper gently, "and I'll give them a nice massage as soon as we settle down." He was very glad he was not facing their direction. They were diabetic sometimes in how they acted.

Before Ryce could reply in some contented manner that would make Rob feel more uncomfortable, the door to the Candide home swung open to reveal a man even shorter than Ryce herself. Perhaps four feet tall at most, he spent a few moments gracing the trio with the most unimpressed look he could muster from under the wide brim of his hat. A hat, they all noted, that had been converted to store not one, but two beers atop his head from which a straw ran right to his mouth, which was hidden by a tall collar that seemed to hide half his face. Finally, his lazy gaze stopped on Ryce.

"Your father was right; you're the size of a house," he snorted, taking a long, drawn-out sip of his beer.

"…Drivin' back to Florida now, goodbye," Ryce growled, only for Met's hold to tighten gently, dissuading any attempt to actually leave. They had things to do, after all, and they had only just arrived.

"Best of luck fitting behind the steering wheel, Pork Roast," Pangloss shrugged, and then choked, coughing on his drink.

Ryce grinned nastily, her threatening, spiky tail wrapping around her husband instead, while she kissed his neck. "I love you so much."

Adam simply smiled.

"Ack…blargh!" Pangloss continued sputtering, slamming a large gloved hand in to his chest to dislodge the unwanted booze. "Warm beer!"

"…Well, he's not on fire at least," Rob was a glass half-full kind of guy. He had to be, especially given who he was still hanging around with.

"But my beer!" Pangloss wailed, looking at Met in displeasure. "You better be hiding some twenty barrels of booze in that coat, demon, or I'm goin—"

"By God, Rob, help," Adam deadpanned, amused. "Tom Bombadil is going to scold me."

"Bo-Bombadil?! Oh that is it—!"

Ryce cut him off with an annoyed 'shut-the-f-up' hiss, only for her to get cut off by the small thump of an explosion that went muffled somewhere up stairs. Her anger faded instantly, replaced by unease as she retreated into the demon's embrace, glancing up.

"…why do I feel like there should be a 'Do not enter if you have a heart condition or may be pregnant' sign on your door?" She asked, her voice showing harmonics of concern that seemed almost alien to Gauntlet.

"Oh no," another voice chimed in, as a woman in her 40s – attractive, with brown eyes and medium-length, black hair tied in a ponytail, and distinctive Asian features – stepped into sight. "I made Louis install a filtering barrier around his room. None of it makes it into the rest house – though his bedroom door DOES have a sign."

Without another word, the woman shot Pangloss a very direct look, causing the annoyed, mourning, godling to start scuttling off towards the kitchen, much like a dog fleeing. Rolling her eyes, the woman Ryce assumed to be Robert's mother, Miho, turned back towards the trio, smiling at the shorter of the men. "Hun, you look good."

"Hey ma," Rob grinned and hugged her, confirming it, "Happy holidays and what not."

"…M'I really that fat?" Ryce sighed to Met, running a hand over her distended stomach, feeling a fluttering flurry of foot taps drumming back against her palm. It was oddly calming, as if he were reassuring her otherwise. For all her concerns she was happy that she did not share Sophie's plight of a child that had enhanced strength from birth.

Met tilted his head, pulling Ryce a little closer and kissing her lovingly, one of his own hands over hers as they touched her belly. When he pulled away he nuzzled and said, "You're beautiful."

"Pregnant women aren't fat," Miho informed her firmly, drawing their attention from each other. "Everyone else is too skinny. This is a fact." Adam chuckled.

"It's true, you know," he told his wife, nodding towards Miho with a smirk on his lips.

"S'not what dad keeps sayin'…then again, he had been a bit weird…weirdER…lately. I don't think he realizes there's a baby in there," she grumbled, tapping a finger against her stomach.

"Your father sounds a little like a piece of crap, then" Miho replied, confidently. She carried herself with an air of certainty that no one else seemed quite able to manage, even the confidence and self-assured nature of Noel or Tim didn't match the almost wall-like nature of Miho's certainty. She would declare things and there-after they would be true, as if you bent the facts around her to make them the shape that she had decided they should be.

"That's what I keep saying when I'm before General Audiences," Met replied in turn, smiling winningly at the older woman.

Ryce herself chuckled, before surprising both her mate and friend by extending her hand to Miho politely. Ryce didn't do polite. To anyone. Ever.

"S'nice to meet you, Mrs. Candide. M'Alaryce Matthews and this is my fr-boyf-…husband Adam…" Even as she said it, stumbling gracelessly on the title, she could feel her face heating up to a warm glow. Way to draw attention to bein' completely in over your head, she thought.

Months later, and she was still not able to believe those words were leaving her mouth. A few weeks and a year ago, she had been sitting in the snow, smoking like a chimney, with a present for this man clutched in frozen fingertips…unable to blurt out even a hint of the truth. Not knowing she was a meager two months away from all but screaming it at him in grieving desperation and then marrying him in a drunken giggling tryst a month or so after that in the fateful trip to Vegas that no one talked about. Now? She glanced down, catching an eye full of her swollen stomach and smiled softy. It's all been…rather rushed, though not unwanted.

"Hm," Miho said, watching her carefully as she brought her gaze back up to hers. Then she took the younger woman's hand in her own, "Nice to meet you, Alaryce. My son has told me a lot about you on his far-too-few phone calls."

"…Mooom…" Rob grumbled, having heard this particular failing before.

"Well, you could pick up the phone more often," Miho said, miffed, as she offered a shrug. "I mean, technology is a wonderful thing Robert."

"She's right, you don't call home nearly enough," Ryce nodded in agreement, "You only call every other Tuesday."

"…Why…do you know that?" Rob asked, exasperated and not particularly appreciating the feeling of being ganged up upon from both sides of his life. Miho's attention turned from the two blonds as she smiled at Met.

"And you're the husband," Adam only smiled and tipped his head in greeting. He didn't seem to have much to say, busying himself with his wife. Miho chuckled: Most men were like that for a bit after the marriage, and especially during the pregnancy. Roger had been with her, after all. "You kids sure move quick."

("Seriously, it is creepy that you know that." Rob commented, outside the story.)

It was clear that she was talking about the belly, but there was no judgment in her tone as if she was simply saying that they had lovely weather today. Ryce blushed anyway, one hand on the small of her back as if hoping it would somehow relieve some of the pressure the pregnancy was putting on it. God knows when she got home her and Sophie were treating themselves to another spa day, on the Titan's money of course.

"It felt right, even if not entirely intended," Met shrugged cryptically, but happily, rubbing her back to help the seemingly impossible task that Ryce had.

"Hm," Miho paused and gave this some thought, having to translate it in to her native tounge before nodding. Once more there was no judgment in her look or tone, just an acceptance of the facts. "Hungry, anyone?"

"We ate on the way…don't want to be any trouble," Ryce waved her offer off, helplessly ignoring that she was, in fact, starving again. She took a step into the house with Adam hovering close behind, "…S'it dangerous to eat straight wasabi? Gods, now I want wasabi."

Miho remembered how, while carrying Rob, she had also had a craving for Wasabi and had decided, for the betterment of their future, to change the subject.

"…I was making chili," Miho offered, as the three filed one by one into her house, "with breadstic – " she trailed off at the engine rumble that came off of Ryce's stomach. The poor woman's previous flush was nothing compared to the bright, candy-apple red that flared across not only her face, but down her neck and up to the tips of her lightly pointed ears. She swore she could feel the blush on her elbows.

Met maintained a perfectly straight face, wise beyond his years as Miho matched it.

Rob, on the other hand, cracked up.

He instantly regretted it, especially when he saw Ryce's eyes water up, the blush going strong. The teenager had a notorious short fuse and temper; calling her "occasionally pyscho-sensitive" before she had gotten pregnant was putting it delicately. In the hormone-raging months since that fateful Las Vegas trip, the swinging moods had turned their home into a sanatorium, a war zone of tears, laughter, and outright primal rage from one second to the next – and that was before you threw Sophie into the mix. The pair of them seemed to be on some form of war against sanity, occasionally making demands that would have challenged Heracles himself.

This in turn, assuming they weren't the targets of the hormonal bomb, tended to stoke the soon-to-be fathers'…"overprotective" instincts. Rob saw all these moments and more when Ryce's lower lip trembled a bit, and he hastily sputtered out something incoherent that was meant to be comforting, an apology, and probably a complaint or two, all rolled into one multi-syllabic sound of unbridled panic.

"Don't make fun of the short, fat girl," she hiccupped, dabbing her eyes with a sleeve.

And then his hair was on fire.

"…Oh honey, you're all kinds of dumb," Miho sighed quietly, slapping the back of his head with one hand and dumping the contents of a flower vase over him with the other. In the same fluid motion, she finished it all by beaning Met in the forehead with said vase, knocking the young man back unto his rear.

The demon groaned, lying upon the floor with one leg held in the air as if in rigor mortis.

"Don't do that, please," She told him kindly.

"…There is plant life down my shirt," a drenched Rob muttered flatly, trying to ignore the smell of burnt hair; HIS burnt hair.

"There is pain in my pain," a concussed Adam replied. He rubbed his forehead, squinting up at the mother of his child.

Ryce, tears still pooled in her lashes, took one look at her husband and broke into a fit of giggles, and then snorts when she saw Rob wriggling his shirt dry. "You're both twits."

Adam pushed himself to his feet, and brushed away her tears. His smile threatened to split his face in two,

"'Kay."

Miho did not appear altogether too concerned with either of the men, addressing Ryce cordially, as a gentle, motherly, smile crossed her thin lips.

"…So. Chili, dear?"

The girl nodded wordlessly, unable to stop giggling, and followed her into the kitchen. There were the occasional gasps of a quick lungful of air as she tried to regain composure and failed entirely, alongside a snort or two in to the mix.

Her companions were quick to trail after her, one attempting to kiss her despite her mirth, and the other shaking his head like a wet dog. That is, until he paused in the doorway and a memory of break-ins past flashed across his mind.

"…Do you still keep poison ivy inside the vases in case of attack?"

"Don't laugh at pregnant women, hon."

* * *

"M'too fat for my top," Ryce said later that night, trying to tug her sleep top over her belly. The top seemed to agree with her, staying put for only a moment or two before riding back up to reveal a small strip of pale stomach. With a sigh, Ryce allowed it to stay as is, "…I feel like I shouldn't be this big already…maybe I need to cut down on the late night cake time with Soph."

"That would break her heart, and yours. Don't see how that's good by anyone's count," her husband replied, with a soft tone that indicated he was used to this discussion. After all, it happened each time she found a shirt that no longer conformed to her growing figure. His eyes roamed over the guest room as he climbed onto bed, beside her. "'Sides, you look radiant…and," His hand ran softly across her exposed belly. "I love it…it makes our baby happy."

Ryce felt her face heat and her hormone-drunk brain vault into overdrive when he chuckled and gave her a gentle kiss, whispering, "And it's done wonders for you."

Dear god, if I wasn't so damn tired, I would rip your pants off, climb on top of you and go to TOWN. White on rice? More like Met on Ry-god DAMN it. DOWN pregnancy libido…bad girl. Sit. Stay. You are in someone else's HOUSE. Think unsexy thoughts, and for Alex's sake, STOP with the sex puns! …Baseball…Disease…Outside…your dad…Noel…ah…there we go.

"It was nice of Mrs. Candide to let us stay here." she changed the topic, pretending Met wasn't smirking because he knew exactly what she was thinking. She was also really pretending she didn't notice where his hands were going.

"I guess she's lonely with Roger at Bulwark, and Louis…what IS he doing all the time in his room?" Adam wondered aloud, helping her slide beneath the sheets.

"…I remember Robbie telling me about him…well…the other Robbie…" Ryce chuckled, about to descend into a moment of reminiscence…only to be jolted out of it, doubling over to seize at her swollen belly. "Ow…M'too short to have this much baby inside of me! Li'l bugger kicks in his sleep, too!"

"Don't say that-" Met eased her back down, "-he'll think you don't like him."

"He's kicking me in the ribs..." she smiled weakly and settled into the crook of Met's neck. That's when she allowed herself to frown a little, "…Maybe we should've told the others. Told them why we really came here."

He caressed her hand, running his thumb across her knuckles. "Maybe; but we're not disappearing on them. We'll go back once we've looked around. THEN we can tell them, can't we?"

"…You're right," she yawned, eyes shutting as she curled against him and he turned off the light with a quiet click. "G'night, Adam. Love you."

And with that, the glory of silence and the comforting darkness filled the room.

…

…

"…Wanna screw around?"

"…God damn it, I hate you, Adam."

* * *

Sophie was blushing again in full force at the level of detail Ryce got into at this point, and seemed to be trying to crawl into her hot cocoa mug. Her own mental mantra of unsexy was rattling off in her head as useless as Ryce's had evidently been. Raven had flat out left the room under the weak guise of needing more tea, despite the full cup she'd splashed over an end table in her haste to duck out. The others all sported looks ranging from amusement to discomfort to, in Noel's case, outright resignation.

"…We don't need the details of what came after that." he attempted to cut the storytellers off, raising a hand almost as if it was in defense.

"Of course you don't. What my wife can do with her tongue, a pair of silk gloves, the whisper-sung lines of Les Misérables and a jar of fluff is for my mind alone. Why would you even say that? Pervert," Met snorted, nuzzling his son's chubby belly.

Whatever Met was remembering behind his way-too-satisfied grin, Noel cringed as it actually made Raven yelp from the kitchen and drop her mug. It made a satisfying crash that just punctuated the situation perfectly.

"This actually IS important to the story!" Ryce chuckled, with the exact same level of satisfaction. At least she had the grace to blush slightly, even if she was smirking.

"I…cannot fathom how," Tim admitted, rubbing his temples with both hands.

"Well…"

* * *

Early December morning light flooded the Candide kitchen. Already dressed in leggings, flat black boots – Met having set her heels on fire two months prior when she nearly fell down the stairs in them – and a maternity dress, Ryce was standing at the stove, expertly flipping a pair of eggs over in the pan, not bothering to check the yolks for breakage she peppered the other side. It was a common occurrence; the baby usually woke her by five or six by grappling unto the top hem of her pants and kicking about. It was still bizarre to feel and see him moving about that much.

The company was nice, though.

"So that makes you, your husband, Rob's grandmother, Louis, the shitty li'l homunculus in the beer hat and occasionally Rob who live here?" Ryce asked as she helped Miho make breakfast.

"And Lyn, but she's off in Thamascara for the next two weeks still." Miho nodded, pulling a knife from the rack with a ringing sound that would make most warriors thing twice about entering the kitchen of the former Ninja. "She's learning how to use her strength with people that don't break if she has a little grumpy moment."

"I knew I forgot someone!" Ryce snapped her fingers, sliding the eggs unto a plate and starting all over again. From upstairs they could hear more movement, signaling someone else was up – other than Loius, whom from the sounds of it, never slept. "Does your other son well…come out of his room? For things like food and air?"

"Oh, he's not a shut-in," Miho replied, chopping chives for an omelet, then she seemed to think better of it, tapping the tip of the knife against her lips as she amended her words. "…Most of the time. He's usually very social. See, he just gets on these… moods, sometimes. When especially inspired about his science hobby, he locks himself in and doesn't come out for DAYS. Not even his grandma can make him come out then, and that woman's a ballbuster. But when he does come out, with some sort of glowing blue cube of cosmic power, or a pill that makes you god for half an hour, and he seems healthy and well-rested; so I've learned not to worry about it."

She handed Ryce the chopped greenery, "I'm pretty sure he'll get out of it by Christmas, when his father's on leave, his grandma comes back from her trip and Lyn comes home."

"S'he anythin like Robbie?" Ryce asked, adding the chives into the pan with a satisfying sizzle.

"Ah…" Miho tilted her head, as if listening to the clucking and whirring going on above them, which usually meant that something needed to be fabricated. "That's… a hard one. Have you ever seen that Avengers movie? Remember the sexy one? The one whose power is being sexy. He flies around in a mechanical suit and is sexy."

Ryce paused, her mind's eye filling not with the face of the actor, but someone from her past who looked remarkably like him; someone with a thick brogue and the woody smell of good whiskey always hovering around him. Miho's descriptor of Morgan's near doppelganger sent a shudder through her, and it was not something she wanted to remember if she could help it. "…I…don't find Robert Downey Jr. sexy…s'wrong on so many levels for me."

"Oh…" Miho blinked, but shrugged easily enough, pushing a mug of tea towards her. "Well, my Louis is kind of like him, sometimes. Other times, well…" she paused, contemplating for a moment before she offered a gentle shrug and a motherly smile. "…he's a sweet boy."

"Aye—urgh…Stop kicking mummy in the bladder." Ryce's voice carried a small moan as she took the tea, with a nod of thanks, to the table. Her back was killing her. It wasn't a surprise, eight hours in a car followed by a night in a strange bed. Sleep, preceded by…other extracurricular activities. Oh, so what? She wasn't a saint, so what did it matter if she dipped her toes in to the wells of one of the seven sins every so often? At least she's actually married to her kid's father.

"I don't think I remember mornings where I didn't hear that first thing-" Rob chuckled, walking in as she was, much to Ryce's surprise, fully dressed and properly groomed. Usually, at the tower, he'd be somewhat dead to the world like most of the Titans, needing a coffee or three to wake them up. "-Hey Preggo, hey Mom."

"Hi, sweetie. Breakfast?" Miho offered, pushing the finished omelet to him as he sat across from Ryce. Instantly, he was grinning and tucking into it to his mother's cooking with a glee of someone who missed home cooking. Miho turned back to Ryce, resting her slender chin on the back of interlocked fingers. "So. House-hunting today?"

"…y…yup" she sputtered, swallowing a mouthful of tea with an audible click. The question had caught her off guard, but it wasn't wholly unexpected. "We're goin'to start lookin' at houses on the outskirts of Uberton first…"

* * *

"Wait what!?" Cy's voice cut through the story. In Met's lap, the baby's tiny arms flared out, the sudden sound startling his motor reflex for half a second before they fell to his side again. His small head attempted to crane about towards the source, bright eyes darting from Ryce to Met's faces. He had no way of knowing his mother's was painted with guilt. Sophie couldn't help but almost look mortified, her eyes blinking back tears as Raven wrapped an arm across her shoulders to steady the mother-to-be.

"You're moving?" Tim frowned, sitting up straighter and looking between Met and Ryce and then to Rob. "Did anyone plan on saying anything?"

"Well, we are now," Met smiled, not seeing the issue.

"And it's not for a few months, so that's PLENTY in advance," Rob added, seemingly equally alright with delaying the announcement, though admittedly he knew before anyone else outside of Met and Ryce.

Ryce fiddled with the hem of her shirt, not looking up and making eye contact with any of them. After a few more seconds of fidgeting, she reached over and took her baby back into her arms, "He's right; the trip was just to look at houses."

"…You mean we have to go back to doing our own laundry?" Gar seemed to deflate with the realization before catching the looks he was getting, "And uh…we'd miss you too, of course."

Ryce stared dryly at him, an impressive feat with her baby in her arms if nothing else. The green man's outburst served to quell her guilt quickly enough, though admittedly not entirely; hearing the faint sound of a sniff coming from Sophie did little to assuage the guilt rising from her own stomach. She knew Sophie would be fine, but they had come to rely upon one another during their time in extremity, or rather in pregnancy.

"Alright, back to the story – hold questions till the end." She said, firmly, reinforcing her reserves.

* * *

"…Rob offered to drive us…I wasn't allowed behind the wheel of a car back when I could fit," Ryce poked at her own omelet, occasionally giving a tense wince as she was needlessly reminded that she had a passenger, and that passenger was hungry.

"HAH! Called it!" a voice barked from the other room, earning a look of pure venom from Ryce. She quickly raised her fork and flicked it in a knife-like slashing motion, left eye aglow. The movement was followed by the simultaneous hiss of pressure escaping six cans of beer at once and then the bubbling gush of them all exploding into someone's face as one. Pangloss' drowning, coughing fits brought a smile to the girl's face.

Rob winced: His friends may not care and his mother may be immune to the godling's indignity, but that just meant he'd been the one that would be whined to when all this was over. Whined to, and possibly tormented; Pangloss the Mighty was technically his patron, his benefactor, and as such Rob might suffer the indignities of giving the godling reparations instead of the angel child.

Miho completely ignored the commotion n her living room, nodding encouragingly. It was as if she knew exactly what's going through her head – and if what she remembered from Rob was right, she probably did.

"It's a nice neighborhood." She said, shifting herself to be resting on one hand while the other grabbed for a mug. "It does get a little lonely, just by myself; I'd be glad to have you around."

Ryce smiled, blushing a little at the backhanded compliment, but didn't get to reply when a drenched, sticky, Pangloss stumbled into the doorway, glaring murder at the pregnant angel-spawn. The effect was lost due to his appearance making him look like a pouty 12-year-old, but the effort was there.

"I demand-" He started, raising a hand encased in a glowing power. "- reparations from the house of Azrael for this offense. GOOD beer, too. Not that shite wine your father drinks. That stuff isn't fit to wash the walls with!" There was a pause…Then the girl helped herself to a piece of toast, which wasn't quite the effect Pangloss was going for, if he had to admit it. Then again most people thought he was small and useless…until he turned them in to a pocket dimension from which he could draw beer.

"M'sorry, don't you have a dragon to burgle? Neither Whom God Helps nor heiress Lie Weaver recognizes the authority of hobbits. Please, try again next year."

Sure, it probably wasn't wise to bait an Omega-class being like she was. But there were reasons why she allowed herself to. For one, he called her fat. Second, she doubted even Pangloss the Mighty would risk attacking the pregnant heir of the House of Azrael. Third, he called her fat. Fourth, her husband usually took precautions to such things for her. Fifth, she suspected her father had had a talk with the being, and it had been basically to bribe him into leaving her alone in exchange for the very booze he was now demanding, so it was just as well to make him work for it.

And he had called her fat. F-word that guy.

For his part, Pangloss was staring at her with a level of astonishment one reserves to discovering their broom had gained sentient life and started casual conversation with them.

Rob seized the opportunity to avoid more conflict, and swallowed the last of his breakfast slowly, "S-So, yeah…" he glanced around the mostly-empty house for ideas, "…um, mom. Would you…like to come with us? House-watching, that is."

It worked – or maybe the baby was on his side – because Ryce jerked a bit and turned to Miho, looking pleased. This also derailed Pangloss, who looked had been brought out of whatever plan he was thinking of enacting as the power faded from his hand as he listened to the discussion.

"The more the merrier." Ryce admitted, offering a shrug.

"…Are they leaving soon?" Pangloss asked with a petulant huff, moving towards the fridge. But not before willing himself dry and clean (something he really should have done from the start), as Miho did not approve of anyone messing her kitchen and that included Omega class beings from another dimension.

"Actually they might be moving in nearby soon," Miho said with a smile, causing the godling to freeze, and then just poof back into the living room with a brand new six-pack. It was almost like having a puppy that wasn't endearing in the least, Miho thought with a chuckle. She then turned to Ryce, "Sure. Why not? I do need to take care of some things here first though."

"That's not a problem, we still have a little tim-"

_"Who the hell are you?!"_

Ryce jumped about a foot in the air, an impressive feat given her current state, as the explosive voice reverberated through the house. Sadly, all eyes had turned up to the muffled voice over in the ceiling, and missed such an acrobatic act from the gravid mother.

_"Oh. Hi. Name's Met, sorry, I seem to have taken a wrong turn somewhere."_

"…did anyone mention my husband to your brother?" Ryce asked, realization and worry crossing in to her voice as she joined their amassed look in the general direction of up.

"…he hadn't come out long enough for me to," Miho muttered defensively.

_"Wh – my securit – how – "_

_"Flashing lights and sounds distracted me."_ Met's voice was as salubrious and flippant as it always was, which seemed to just confuse Louis further.

_"What?"_

"Well, isn't that interesting?" Miho asked uncertainly, frowning up as she waited for the other boot to drop on this situation.

"…damn it," Ryce growled and hoisted herself to her feet, muttering under her breath, "Adam, you leave him alone! M'the only Matthews who can annoy a Candide!" Her efforts stopped when she caught sight of what lay before her path if she fetched him, a nemesis that had plagued her, Sophie, and any woman who was the last few months of their particular condition. "…ugh stairs…too many stairs…too fat…" she changed her mind and plopped back down into her chair, which was thankfully easier than getting up from it. A cup of tea was placed in to her hands, lovingly, by Miho who understood completely.

_"…Am I being punk'd by Doctor Insano?"_

_"Hey, what's this do?"_

_"DON'T TOUCH T – "_

When the alarm went off, the only surprising factor was that it was at a politely soft volume.

There was a sudden rush of steps, and a man appeared at the bottom of the landing. He resembled a taller, skinnier Rob with brown, flat hair. Dashing past the kitchen, his lab coat flowing in his wake.

"Mom?! MOM! Not to alarm you, but I think we should evacuate the house…in alarm!" He yelled, his hands waving in many directions at once as he tried to explain with his hands rather than his words.

"…well-" Miho sighed calmly, swiftly helping Ryce up to her feet with a strange grace. If the girls of the Tower longed for Kory's looks, they would have wanted the poise that Miho showed. "-Looks like my schedule's been cleared."

"Where's my husband!?" Ryce yelled, trying to waddle to the stairs with considerably less calm than the rest of the Candide household had. To them, for the most part, this was old hat.

Her panic was quickly replaced by relief, however, when a wave of warm air and a pair of arms scooped her up and instantly she found herself out the door, followed by others. Once Miho was out – she refused to go before Rob – Louis pressed what appeared to be a hidden button beneath the door's ringing bell.

A soft hum went off as the transparent field crawled up the house's walls, sealing shut with a hiss.

"…well, that'll contain the plutonium." Louis Candide let out a slow breath, relaxing.

Ryce blinked and turned to Met, mouthing 'Plutonium?'

"…I really shouldn't touch anything," Adam whispered, setting her down, very gently, and hugging her close, completely ignoring what he had just said in favor of showing affection to his significant other. Ryce rolled her eyes in mild-exasperation, before addressing the Candide she had yet to meet,

"'Lo. M'Ryce, and…you've met my husband," she muttered dryly. "…you're taller than your brother."

"Hi," Louis muttered distractedly, glancing at the readings scrolling along the containment field akin to a holographic display, and then looking her way. "Your husband's a goddamn MORO – oh, you're pregnant," he noticed, before hesitating. His brain switched in to a new gear as he took this information, mixed it with what he was going to say, sieved it for potholes and issues, then introduced the results of that test in to a sentence that would allow him to walk straight in five minuets time. "…erm…your husband lacks…certain qualities I would find preferable in a person."

"I do lack qualities," Met acknowledged, checking Ryce for any problems, and finally locking eyes, allowing her to see the worried anxiety slowly bleed out of his expression, replaced by the happy relief she herself was feeling.

"None of the important ones," she assured him with a kiss, returning the smile. "What, exactly, did he do?" she added, to Louis.

"He pressed a button activated the countdown to plutonium release," Louis says flatly. "I don't even know how, since you need three buttons and a password to do so, but my alarms don't lie. I'm pretty sure that's important."

"…really, Louis, radiation?" Rob sighed, causing his older brother to notice him for the first time. There was even a pause as the rather chaotic internals of Louis' brain fired and reminded him that he should recognize the shorter, blonde haired, clone.

"Oh, hey! …When did you come back from camp?" Louis blinked.

"…it wasn – for the love of GOD, you do this EVERY time. It is NOT camp. I'm part of a superhero team! We save the world! In a fic-to-fic basis!" Rob snapped, annoyed as he shook his fist at his brother.

"Yeah, canoeing's fun," Louis replied agreeably, clearly not listening as he studied the house.

It was actually Ryce who reacted most, narrowing his eyes and fixing him a dirty sort of look. Rob could see the barest hint of her fangs as she spoke next.

"Camp? He helped save the bloody world last February, nearly losing his arm, twice, thank you very much…and he's in his twenties! …patronizin' git." Her voice was edged in a new contempt, one that seemed to be reserved for siblings of every ilk. Her best friend put a calming hand on her shoulders, shrugging helplessly…Though he didn't let up on his glare as he spoke.

"Don't let it get to you. He doesn't mean anything by it. His head's just a cluttered place, so he tends to ignore things he doesn't care about. He once mentioned that if this world is destroyed, he'll just go to another one and take all humans with him, using organic-targeted teleporters situated in key satellites around the planet's orbit."

Ryce blinked at that.

Rob shrugged, offering a half smile. "He thinks superheroes are kind of severely inefficient and silly…"

"…I don't like it when people who aren't me pick on you," she grumbled, granting the scientist one last look before making her awkward way towards the T-car.

"He's my brother," Rob grinned, following, "I'm pretty sure he can pull a rank on you."

"M'a tiny, pregnant, abused, quasi-orphan with one arm…I pull rank over all," Ryce dismissed loftily. Met laughed and hugged her close, opening the door and easing her into the car. As much as he would never say as much, it did remind him of trying to move a sofa through a narrow door. Of course if he was suicidal then he might have brought it up…

"Eh, not sure I trust him not to ignore most of that, too," Rob admitted, moving to the driver's seat. He paused, a thought striking him as he looked over to Louis and Miho, who were still watching the house. "Wait, where's Pangloss?"

"There was only time to warn you lot," Louis explained with a heavy heart, also apparently listening again. It was as if listening came in stops and starts, like a buffering online video or an intermittent set of headphones. "In these situations, sacrifices had to be made. I didn't enjoy it, but my family…they had to come first."

"…Louis, he was right next to us in the living room. In fact, he's RIGHT THERE," Rob pointed to the house, where Pangloss was staring at them from a window, beer in hand, with a 'What the HELL' expression on what parts of his face you could see.

"You're in our hearts!" Louis waved at him. Pangloss responded with a rude gesture that was universal in its discourtesy. "…prick."

"I actually could have warned him, but dad recommended b'fore we left that I let him die given the chance. It was a real bondin' moment for us." Ryce grinned serenely into Met's arms. "Also that li'l shit called me fat yesterday. I'm not fat."

This proved, once and for all, the strength of a woman's grudge.

"…So, honey, radiation?" Miho sighed, ignoring the irate godling as he continued to glare. Louis started a little as he looked to his mother, blinking a few times as if he was resetting his brain.

"Hm? Oh. Yeah. I'll take care of that."

"When?" Miho pressed.

"Er…couple of hours? Six tops. It'll get neutralized," Louis promised in a way only a son could to his beloved mother. Said mother stared at him and sighed once more, turning to join the others in the car.

"Well, sooner than expected, but I'm ready."

The change over Ryce was instant as her ill-humored jabbing at Pangloss faded. Her face slacked into a careful blank, and she looked very small to Miho as the older woman got into the car.

"O…Oh. That…'s great. Fantastic. Sooner's fantastic. Uh…Le's go then."

* * *

That had been the better part of two hours ago. The drive itself had only taken about thirty minutes, including a stop for coffee. The rest of the time, well…

"Ryce? Baby…sweetie…light of my life…Mother of my unborn kitten?"

The mismatched eyes peeked out at him from behind the tinted window. "Get out of the car…?" Adam sighed.

"…No, thank you."

"Please get out of the car."

"No, thank you."

"What if I told you there was candy outside the car?"

"…depends on the kind…"

"Why are we doing this again?" Rob groaned, dragging his hand across his own face in the traditional pose of annoyance.

"Again?" Miho questioned, glancing into the car beside Met, spotting the young woman hiding inside. Ryce avoided her stare; in fact, she avoided everyone's stares by staring contentedly at what part of her shoes she could actually see.

"She had a bit of a panic attack on the way here," Met explained, tapping the glass with his finger, hoping to get her attention, "but since this time she locked me out too, I can't distract her by fooling around while Rob drives awkwardly."

"That last part can't possibly be relevant to the explanation," Rob grumbled in dry irritation as he flushed subtly. He didn't want to have conversations about fooling around with his mother stood, literally, two feet away.

Ryce didn't look up, but she did raise her own hand against the window, over Adam's. The demon smiled softly.

"This is a pickle, isn't it?" he mused, though he looked content. "There's only a little bit to go, honey…and you've made it this far. Come on out, you can do this."

Ryce nursed her lower lip, looking at him with doe eyes.

Rob sighed, knowing how cheesy they could get, lost in their own worlds, so instead he addressed his mother.

"You really wouldn't believe this whole trip what's her idea in the first place. It's ridiculous." He sighed, though more gently and with less indignation than before.

"…Son, she's pregnant," Miho sighed flatly, as if speaking to a 5-year-old about the obvious facts of life. Like Adam, she didn't seem very worried. "Give it five more minutes, at most."

"…what s'that supposed to mean," Ryce's eyes narrowed on Miho. Color was building in her cheeks, and her politeness evaporated, clearly offended by being left out of the older woman's apparent knowledge. Miho smiled at her, holding up a basket.

"It means the food's out here."

After months of conditioning, the sight made the pregnant woman's stomach give a rumble that traveled even through the closed window. She would have to blame someone for this at some point, possibly Sophie or Met…

"…I'll melt the chocolate," Met offered.

"You suck, Adam." The dull click of the door opening filled the driveway as the group visibly relaxed.

"Let's just remember this for next time. It's much better than the other solution." Rob sighed.

* * *

The resentment was short lived. It was only a matter of minutes before the four found themselves making their ways up the stately porch stairs. It spanned the whole front of the house and wrapped around the sides towards the backyard, one that Adam bragged dropped back a great distance, offering plenty of room. Then they were through the front door of the handsome Tudor home. Met continued snuggling his wife lovingly all the while, showering with the affection he knew she needed so that she didn't bolt back to the car, back to square one. For her part, Ryce continued to eat grumpily, taking childish delight on trying not to show just how much she was enjoying the breakfast sandwich they had bought her.

Miho smiled at the pair, fond familiar memories in her mind. God knew how many "please don't freak out" sandwiches Roger had gone through when they had Louis. Robbie had been sundaes and watermelon. It was oddly fitting for her son's respective personalities.

Speaking of, Rob seemed to be the one in the group that was solely interested in actually inspecting the house, rather that doing so grudgingly while eating, or doing so while comforting his crazy wife.

"Shouldn't the showing lady done more than tossed us the keys and left?" Rob asked as he looked out the window with a smile, "I'm pretty sure there's more to selling a house than that."

The hallway they entered, though blank, was frankly beautiful. Hardwoods spanned everywhere in sight, recently installed and shined to the point that they could nearly see their reflections blinking up at them. A set of stairs and a dark wood banister led the way up to the second floor. To the right, Ryce could see a living room, a bay window streaming winter sunlight in from the porch. To the left, a kitchen – a HUGE kitchen, her mind noted. It was the type of home many would have worked themselves to the bone to earn, after years of such work.

Ryce finished her sandwich in a few quick bites, her eyes cautious and carefully unimpressed, even as she began to make her way around, taking note of all the tiny details, moldings and floors and space. This gorgeous place would one day be someone's hallway. This one, someone's living room. Anyone, really.

Anyone whose name wasn't Alaryce Fionnabhair McBride Gallagher…Matthews. Or maybe the Matthews is supposed to go first? Who even knew, she needed to shorten her bloody name.

"Look," Met smiled, taking her hand, breaking her out of her musings. They were standing before a nice, rustic-looking fireplace. "We could sit here together, at nights, and relax."

"…S'beautiful" the half-angel nodded coolly. Part of her, a part she had used for years, was trying to hold back any foolish, romantic notions or big emotional displays. This was a hard job indeed.

"Sitting here," he continued, gently, "by the fire. Holding each other…with a little bundle in our arms. Maybe even doze off together."

"Aye…" Ryce grumbled again, though her features were beginning to soften at the picture he was painting. A bundle. Their bundle. Their son, according Nigel's ultrasounds. Ryce cringed at that, she and Adam still needed to figure out what they were going when the baby came, within a month or so. Not that both of them didn't love the Blacktrinian doctor, but there would be something decidedly awkward about him being the one to deliver the baby. Something about having a close friend spend hours staring at your bits wasn't working for her. Or Met. He was the jealous kind. Who knew?

Even still. That image of sitting before the crackling flames curled up in his arms, their baby curled up in hers. It almost was enough to melt the weary ache of her swollen ankles, or quell the pangs racking her back. Her and her Adam, and their baby. Nestled against one another in this big beautiful house…

Alone, with no one else. No one else at all.

No Titans.

"I don't like it," she lied. Miho, sensing the encroaching tension, nudged her son from the room without warning.

"Let's go look at the kitchen, Robert." She said, in a tone that mother had, inadvertently, programmed in to their sons from an early age, thus he complied without really knowing why.

"…Hm," Met said, barely acknowledging when the pair left. His hands trailed along the mantle of the fireplace, which lit up with a gentle woosh of dancing orange flames that spread warmth along the room. "Shall we try it?"

Several moments passed as she settled into the familiar spot, a bit more snugly since she started showing. It felt very right as usual, but different. The difference made her tense, further aggravating her back, so she locked eyes with him, "It s'not the same as home – Why do we have to move, again?"

Met consider this and her for a moment, before he reached out and simply laid a hand on her belly, brimming with significance.

"Because…" He trailed off; having said all that was needed. Silently, her hand covered his and her eyes dropped down to the flames,

"…We'll be all alone Adam…I jus' found them." Ryce's words were soft, but filled the gaps of silence left by the roaring fire. He nodded, listening, before nuzzling his face into her neck in a loving, and familiar, way.

"That place…I don't dislike it. It's loud, warm, comfortable…plenty of space. The people there are nice, and you can trust them. But it's not the best place to raise a child. We need our own home for him. Together. To keep him safe and not worry about a random attack that might get him hurt. How many times has the Tower been compromised, Ryce? How many? I know you haven't forgotten February." As he said it, he placed a gentle kiss to the crown of her head, the exact spot that the Abhorred had smashed into the kitchen table. She frowned, resting a hand on her belly and feeling her son shift. "Let alone what happened to the city itself."

Met continued, holding her close. "-And, because it's time for us to live together, making our life. Not alone. With each other. And, yes, without our friends here – they aren't dying, though. We'll visit them. All the time; I told you I would find a way to set up a Gate to Jump before we settled. Living together doesn't mean we lose everyone else."

Even as he was speaking, Ryce had begun to shake her head. Panic? No, that wasn't panic in her voice. The Heir to Death did NOT panic about stupid stuff like this, it was…a healthy measure of concern and foresight that lead to a somewhat, hormonally charged, minor hysteria.

"…I MADE a life…I…M'not…not ready for that to change, Adam…s'too much," Ryce sputtered, her hand twining with his. "Lookin' at houses…bein' married…havin' a baby. Adam m'scared as hell…" she whispered, watching the flames somberly, wrapping her arm around her swollen stomach. It depressed her that she found it hard to wrap her arms around her swelling middle. "…everythin' changed so fast."

"Do you…regret it?" Met asked, gently.

"Never," Ryce didn't hesitate. It was a ridiculous question, one that coming from anyone else would have earned wrath. For Met though, all there was was certainty and fear. "I love you. I love him. M'scared. This house s'everythin' I could ever want Adam…S'beautiful. M'jsut scared…I was alone for so long. I was alone and they found me."

She sighed, shutting her eyes and melting against him. A weight shifted and fell from her chest, almost hitting against the floor with a very real thump. How long had that been weighing on her, she wondered. The fear of change had been nibbling, rat-like, at the back of her head for a while. She knew this, just not to this extent.

"…change is scary…I know that intimately," Met whispered, "But…we do it for what's worthwhile," he raised her chin. "For those that make it worth it. So, is this worth it?"

Her eyes met his, gold and mismatched sapphire.

"…Always," she murmured and kissed him softly.

When they broke away, she smiled and rested her forehead gently against his "…this really s'a beautiful place, Adam. I can't imagine what the others will be like. Thank you, love."

"Only a few more after this one," Met smiled, looking around. Something in what he saw made him hesitate slightly, "but…forget the others. How do you feel about this one?"

Ryce stifled a laugh at his uncertainty. When she rested her head against his chest, she could hear the steady thumping of his heart. "Big back yard…I can see how huge the kitchen is from here…guest rooms and bathrooms to spare…that gorgeous porch up front. It reminds me of this house from back when…" she smiled sadly, "back before you…with Morgan and Eddie. We were only there for a week but…it was a house like this. It was the most normal we ever got to feel…like a real family."

"…Yeah," he murmured, hugging tighter, "I saw this place, and thought…this can be my children's home. This can be our family's home. I'm so glad you liked it too. It would have been hard to get the deposit back."

"Yea M'su – you just totally said deposit, didn't you?"

* * *

Every eye in the living room had found Adam, with the exception of Rob, who just chuckled. The Tower's female population seemed especially interested in him, in an eerie display with no blinking whatsoever. Even Ryce was giving him a weary look at that point.

"…You didn't," Robin declared in a sort of horrified fascination. He seemed one of the few that was capable of actually speaking. He winced at Rob's 'HA!'

The Morning Child sank into his chair with a sigh, and continued the tale.

* * *

Dead silence.

Adam paused, frowning at the shift, "Um…"

"…Robbie, why don't we go check out the closet space upstairs?" Miho could be heard from the kitchen, and then dragging her son off once more. Given how Rob sputtered out complaints and resistances, it seemed that only those lacking a y chromosome within these walls had any common sense today.

"Did you say DEPOSIT, Adam?" Ryce demanded, her voice dropping into a hiss.

"…Yes," Met admitted uncertainly, trying to wrap his arms back around her, "…I'm not sure this was the reaction I expected, though."

"You bought this house…" it wasn't a question, as she detangled herself and made to stand up.

Several times.

Honestly, if it weren't for the gleam in her eyes, the attempts would have been hilarious. Eventually she settled for a several stage standup, which would need a preverbal run-up to get her standing.

"It's technically more a down payment, really," Adam offered, helping her.

"You…bought a HOUSE AND DIDNT TELL ME!?" Ryce slapped his hand away, and her voice seemed to reach decibels Met didn't realize possible. In fact, he was relatively sure he heard the panel in the bay window cracking. It probably wouldn't shock him at all if NIGEL heard her from the reaches of space.

"I…told you twenty seconds ago," Met pointed out blankly, unaware of how much further he was burying himself, but smart enough to be more than a little apprehensive. "…I thought…it'd be a nice surprise – if you liked it. It would have been perfect, then…so, I wanted to see what you honestly thought, before you felt pressured – and you DID love it. Remember? How much you loved it?" His voice trailed off as she turned to him.

"THAT s'NOT the point Adam!" she snarled, pushing away from him to brace herself against the nearest wall, "You KNEW how freaked out I was and you BOUGHT A GOD DAMNED HOUSE!"

The wall proved treacherous. She almost toppled right back on the floor, eyes bright and angry as anything behind her glasses, before he caught her and helped her to her feet. Her rush of gratitude was short-lived, as she remembered why she slipped in the first place.

"I know it was big," Met tried to explain, "but, I just wanted to help you…I thought it'd make the transitio – "

"Adam, I am your WIFE-" she all but roared, "-You can't DO shit like this anymore!"

Her husband swallowed his thoughts, trying to hear her out. It actually infuriated her all the more that now he was trying to be understanding. "It doesn't matter if I like the house, Adam. It doesn't matter if I LOVE the house. I could find bloody Mecca in this house and it wouldn't MATTER!" she growled, with a face so red and eyes so furious that he almost feared for her blood pressure. "M'your wife and you didn't even ASK me!?"

"…I was just trying to make you happy," Met whispered quietly, simply explaining his flawed reasoning, rather than defending it. This did not help the situation.

"How could you THINK I would want this, Adam, when I didn't even want to move in the first place…when all I wanted s'to stay home and not have everythin' else change, too?" she countered, clearly trying to force calm back over herself, with only a tiny margin of success. "You can't just make this decision for me! A surprise s'lettin' me nap and doin' the dishes…S'sittin' me down on the couch and lettin' me tuck into a pint of ice cream when m'supposed to be doin' laundry. S'not deciding where we are going to raise our child without CONSULTIN' ME!"

"I didn't," Met closed his eyes, deflating completely as it all seemed to click. You had to know him, to fully appreciate how extraordinary it was the find the Morning Child at a loss for words, "I-I won't. It wasn't about that…or meant to come out that way. If you didn't like it, I was just going to return it, and there'd be no harm done. I'd never force you to anything, Ryce, M'sorry. You're right…m'sorry."

His wife was shaking her head angrily, hugging herself, and turning away.

"…I thought that if I bought it, this house that I thought could be ours, and you liked it…it could be a-a, convenient surprise. I thought – "

"You didn't THINK at all, Met." she spat, stepping back away from his hands and waddling with what she would tell all to be GREAT and mighty fury into the kitchen.

Ryce leaned her weight forward, bracing herself against the kitchen counter. Marble counter tops, she noted. Beautiful ones; freshly refinished. Dear Lord, if she wasn't so angry at Adam right now she would almost be able to appreciate this kitchen and the things that could be done with it. It was a dream kitchen in a dream home. Recalling the man who should have been her father, the one who taught her near everything she knew in the kitchen, she could only imagine his reaction to being in such a gorgeous space.

But an idiot husband who did things without thinking put far too much of a damper on all of these things for her. The sharp, complaining spasm running up and down her back was not helping, either. Remember what Raven taught you, Als, she thought, surprising herself by using her old nickname, Nice and calm. Breath in…Breath out. Find your center. The meditation she had learned a short year or so ago really did wonders for more than her sleep patterns. So, she stood, barely aware of the time that was flowing past. Ten…fifteen minutes? All quiet. All calm.

Which was why she heard him come in, easily.

"…Ryce?" Met asked, quiet and soft, from the doorway.

Her right hand tensed slightly over the counter. Her left didn't, just barely, because there was no point in ruining the wonderful marble finish. When she finally spoke, her voice was tired, but even, "Aye?"

"I asked Rob, and he left to bring the car around," he informed her gently, and she'd be damned if it didn't make her feel awful, "We can leave now, whenever you're ready."

She was silent for a moment, no longer out of anger, simply to relive some pressure off her back.

"…I don't know what I want," she sighed. But then she gave pause, turning about on her heels to look at him. "No…no, that s'a lie. I want you to treat me like your wife…your partner. Your EQUAL."

"…I…" Met trailed off when she lifted her hand; a soft gesture to allow her to finish what was on her mind.

"Adam…I said this before, but…this s'a house…you don't surprise your wife with a house. M'sorry I lost my shit. You shouldn't have just taken me out of the decision. S'not fair and it isn't RIGHT – we're part of each other's lives…were going to be PARENTS," she pointed out to him as if he had somehow missed the huge stomach. "It can't be this way."

"I know – " Met insisted, sounding earnest. "…I never meant for it to feel like I didn't care. You…" He sighed, running a hand along his hair in an odd display of anxiety, "Ryce, you're the only one who makes things…alive."

He paused, his hand having run through his hair and rubbing the back of his neck. "You're the one that gives life taste, color, makes it vibrant. You're the only one that…smiles when I smile –cries when I cry. To me, you're the one who is real," the Morning Child poured everything into the words, and it exhausted him, dragged upon him as he tried to make his thoughts somehow solid and tangible. "Everyone else…" here, he hesitated, closing his eyes as he tried to martial his thoughts carefully. "…they…they are good people. I am no better or no less than them…but you are my only equal."

His hands twitched, like he wanted to hold her, but his shoulders slacked, stopping himself short – and it clearly made him miserable to do so. "…Please, believe me," he said, finally, his voice loosing what little strength it had left.

Ryce's eyes had begun to to shine and shimmer at one point, and now she nursed her lip, to keep from speaking. It was one of many 'Ryceisms' Met knew she only did when she felt overwhelmed,

"…Adam…I love you…M'just really mad you did this." She finally admitted, allowing words to slip past her fingers.

"I know. It really didn't work the way I wanted," Met acknowledged, trying a small smile for her despite how unholy wretched he felt in her presence for upsetting her so violently. "…I'm…kinda learning too, you know?"

"…I know, love," she sniffed, running her sleeve over her eyes to rid them of their sheen. "G-God, M'sorry Adam. I…I need five minutes, okay? I jus' gotta get it together."

Adam nodded, edging again towards her. The knocking interrupted them before he could reach.

"Kids?" Miho said from doorframe, having moved across the hardwood floor without a hint of a footfall. Even her words were quiet as if she was loathed to interrupt them. "Robbie says there's a problem with the car."

There came a sigh from Met and a bark of humorless, miserable laughter from Ryce as they glanced at the ninja woman, who could but stand there and looked unconcerned.

"Of course there is. What ELSE could go wrong?"

"Ryce…" Adam breathed, reaching for her hand.

Irritation bubbled back to the surface, heating her face with a flush. With her aching back and her frayed nerves, and the added guilt of seeing the lost look in his eyes, she grasped the emotion with expertise, and strode out into the living room, not quite pulling away, but not reaching for him either. "I just need a minute…"

Adam paused, giving her the space she once again craved. Miho tried to speak, but Ryce ignored her too, glaring at Rob, "What?" Her friend looked chagrinned, as he turned to her and placed his hands in to his pockets.

"Still testy, I see. About the car," Rob began hastily when the glare intensified, "were you awar – actually, let's be direct: When you and Adam insidiously and with great malice aforethought took the T-Car without Vic's permission, did you also have the precaution of getting its passwords? Because it just went on lockdown and I can't open it without them."

"…No. Damn it, Rob, can't you jus' figure it out on you ow – FUCK!" Ryce swore when she took another step, only for her feet to slide about. She'd have fallen if not for her hand clutching Rob's arm, and she glare, more anger mounting into a hiss, "I told you to leave the top on your coffee so you wouldn't spill! Can nobody listen to me? Don't take the lid off your coffee…start the car…DON'T buy god damned houses without talking to me first! These aren't outlandish requests!"

But her venting dummy was not looking at her – how dare he – but instead stared dumbly at her feet, "…uh…"

What…?

"Alaryce!" Met called, rushing towards her with Miho fast behind him, carefully avoiding stepping on what seemed to be a wet trail. It originated from the kitchen, and ended in a small puddle under her feet.

It…wasn't coffee. And her back throbbed again.

"…Please tell me that's pee," she dimly heard Rob groan, before he caught his mother's stare. "It'd be gross, yeah, but it's better than the alternative!" He said, jumping a few thoughts ahead of everyone else.

"…O…Oh…that's," Ryce sputtered, "…Are you kidding m – argh, FUCK!" her angry demand was cut off by another spasm that shot up her back and down the backs of her legs.

Contraction, her inner dialogue corrected.

"Ryce!" he sounded panicked, she realized. It was the loudest she had ever heard his voice. Met had crossed the room in the blink of an eye to her side.

"O-oh god. This…this s'not good…911…" she shook her head, leaning against him. Her voice was quickly reaching a shrill edge, spurred by her climbing panic. A hand floundered into Met's weakly…trying to lace into his fingers. She squeezed it desperately as pain began to course through her again; her voice came out in a weaker croak, "Adam?"

"I'm here," Met promised quietly, squeezing her hand back a great deal more gently, looking into her eyes. He was just as worried, just as panicked. But he still held her strong, "We'll get you to the hospital – Rob, get the car."

"Um, still on lockdown," Rob piped in, wracking his hair.

* * *

Now all the eyes found Cyborg.

"…How was I supposed to know?!"

* * *

"ROB," Met growled, his calm gone completely and his eyes flashing with furious impatience. Rob was taken aback by it, having never seen this side of the occasional Titan either, "You have a WEAPON OF THE OLD GODS on your left arm. RIP THE DOOR OFF."

"Oh – right, I'll – come on!" Rob rushed for the door.

"S'too early, Adam…" she choked out, refusing to let herself tear up, "He's not ready…"

"He will be…" Met whispered, picking her up. "Focus on that, ok? I know I will."

"Hospital's down."

The trio froze. In the panic, they had almost forgotten about Miho, but now all eyes turned to her as her own scanned the news feed on her smart phone with a calmness that seemed to almost belittle the gravity of the situation.

"…I'm sorry, what?" Rob asked, his voice trailing as he darted a glance to the couple. Adam was actually standing in a stunned silence, which was only broken by Ryce's weak whimper.

"D…down? Adam, what does she mean down? It can't be down…"

Wincing, Miho turned the mobile around. The surreal sight in the screen was…what seemed to be a fight between a giant beetle monster and an equally giant robot made up of smaller, animal-based robots. This was happening right In the middle of downtown, Uberton.

The half angel's hand ground tighter on to her husband's fingers. "Adam, it CAN'T be down," Ryce implored, staring incomprehensively at the screen, "Nigel's in space…and we're not at the Tower…and I'm in freakin' labor. And we need a hospital because he's too early!"

"The buildings go underground and seal themselves when something like this happens. The hospital's unreachable," Miho explained softly, her voice calm and soothing as she put the phone away. She did not have much experience in it, but even Ryce knew the tone of a mother trying to calm those around her. One of the woman's hands rested softly on her shoulder, "Honey – calm down. I'm going to help you."

Ryce shook her head at her numbly, she didn't want to listen to her. She wanted…She wanted… "…Ada…Adam? Scared…m'scared. S'too early."

All the while, Adam was watching her, holding her hand and stroking locks of sweat-matted hair back away from her eyes. Now, she could definitely see he was scared, even as he raised a hand to his lips, kissing each of her knuckles,

"It'll be all right. I'll have a plan in no time. I-I swear." He said, his voice crackling with uncertainty. This is probably why Rob didn't find comfort in the words.

"Oh God, this is NOT how I thought I'd be spending the day!"

"THIS S'NOT ABOUT YOU!" Ryce SCREAMED at him, something in the tone becoming guttural and inhuman on the last word, her eyes contracting into slits. Soon, her snarl ended with a howling scream as another contraction hit. Had she been more aware, she'd have heard the crunching sound of Adam's hand.

He was too busy growling under his breath to notice either, hugging her close, and closing his eyes, as if trying to absorb her pain, but not all demons could be gifted Raven's empathetic power.

"ROB, STOP PANICKING!" he hissed, his mind reeling for solutions.

"Panicking? Who's panicking!? Not like she's giving birth a month EARLY or anything," Rob countered, turning to his mother, "WHY is she having a baby, now!?"

"I don't know, Robbie," Miho sighed even as she seized her son's shoulder and began steering him out of the room, "Your friend is right. Panicking isn't helping. Go find some clean towels and sheets. Any linens at all."

Once the young blond man was shoved unceremoniously from the room, Miho was finally able to turn her attention back to the couple seated on the floor. Met had taken to sitting behind his wife, propping her up against him as she struggled to let out rhythmic breaths. Raw panic and fear was radiating off Ryce by then, her eyes darting about the room as if desperately seeking some answer from the walls or ceiling.

Snapping into action, the woman kneeled beside them both. "Alright; I need you to keep her calm, Mr. Matthews."

"A-Adam is fine," he waved her off, eyes boring into his wife.

"Why?" Ryce cut into the conversation, eyes finally focusing on the two for a moment, "Why, NOW? I have a month. Why is he coming, now!?"

Miho shook her head, a calming hand on the girl's shoulder as the other attempted to take her pulse, "He seems to disagree on you having that month, dear. It could be many things. Look, they don't have to be BAD reasons; things like this happen…fairly often…more or less. There are some things that can just induce labor," Miho explained, trying to calm her down as she spoke in a clear voice, "Spicy food, long walks…sex." There was no missing the look she cast them both on the utterance of the last word

Met felt Ryce's hand turn into a vice around his as her eyes trailed from Miho to him.

The screaming that followed cause Rob to smash his head off a closet shelf in the hallway.

"YOU! YOU DID THIS TO ME, YOU SON OF A BITCH! YOU ARE NEVER GETTING' NEAR THERE AGAIN, ADAM MATTHEWS! DO YOU HEAR ME?! I SHOULD CASTRATE YOU WHERE YOU STAND YOU F'GHAN T'CKEX-" No one quite understood the words that followed but they DID make Met's ears bleed as he nodded mutely.

* * *

"Told you that part was relevant," Ryce chuckled at Noel's dry stare.

"Hold on," Sophie raised her hand up in interruption.

"We are never finishing this story," Gar groaned slumping back on the couch. He was remarkably uncomfortable with this whole story and wanted it over and done with as soon as possible. He seemed to be in the minority who found it almost too uncomfortable to bear, as he looked around the room, though. Vic seemed a little uneasy, though he said nothing, Tim was too. Nigel, who was about to be a father and of a medical mindset found it less unnerving, while Noel basically seemed to mentally file the situation in his brain for a later date. Rob and Met were not too concerned as they'd been through it all once already.

The girls, on the other hand, at other things on their minds…

"Is that true? That induces labor?" Sophie carried on, ignoring the side complaints.

Shifting Zane about in her laps so he could look at his "aunts" and "uncles," Ryce nodded before casting a dark look at Met.

"Apparently. M'still mad at you, by the way."

"T'was still one of the freakiest nights of my life. No complaints," Met smiled, picking up a touch of her accent as he said it and enjoying every rolling syllable.

Sophie did not appear to be listening. In fact, her eyes had tracked unto the father of her unborn child thoughtfully. There was a small smile growing on her face as the wheels in her head started to turn.

"…I didn't realize that." Sophie murmured, grabbing Nigel by the shoulder. "We'll be right back."

It might have been a moment of utter awkwardness, if not the look on Nigel's face. No one bothered to hide their amusement as Nigel began to sputter at her forwardness. It wasn't until she had already dragged him up and off the couch that he could find his voice at all. Worming his way around her with a turn, he led her back to her seat. For a moment, she looked confused as to how she had gotten back to square one.

"No, we won't." He said, flatly, as he sat next to her.

"…you're possibly the only male I've ever met who would rather sit and listen to a story of giving birth than bang his sorta-wife," Ryce chuckled dryly to Nigel. He simply returned to her a serious look.

"There are FAR too many factors in this. I'm not risking anything so she might give birth quicker tha-ow!" Nigel yelped. Black and blue eyes traced downwards to find the source of his sudden pain. Sophie blinked back up from where she had bitten in to his shoulder.

"Mill met mo mif mou mome mif me." She mumbled, her teeth not letting go of her lover's shoulder.

"…It seems I have no choice. We'll be back…"

"I REALLY didn't need to know that," Tara said, looking a little green as she wished, oh how she wished, that one of the bottle shaped presents under the tree were for her and were either vodka or mind bleach.

"…Hm…with the bombs he's dropped on her tonight, she might neuter him when she's done." Met considered out loud, offering his son his finger to grip.

"…Shag her good old bean, lest she goes praying mantis on you!" Ryce nodded in tandem with Met and returned to coddling her baby.

"Please…stop…" Jinx begged, rubbing a hand across her face. She'd even put her beer down by this point as she felt a little…ill. Again it wasn't for the fact that she didn't care for them; she just didn't need to know that.

"For the love of god; can't we have SOME boundaries in this place," Noel could be heard griping, as he placed his face in his hands. There was a delicate paff noise as Raven patted his back reassuringly.

"Bunch of prudes," Ryce sighed, nuzzling the baby and cooing to him. "Yes they are…yes they are…" Kory nodded strongly, her arms wrapped around Tim in a loving way. She had been the only one that had been on the edge of her seat throughout the whole story, insanely happy for the couple and finding the stories about sex and relationships fascinating rather than alienating.

"My agreement is with friend Ryce. This is a beautiful moment that we should rejoice in! May Nigel and Sophie's glorious…uh…"shagging" bring forth our new niece!"

Tim only choked on his drink for thirty seconds. It was a Christmas record and was thus noted down for posterity.

"…When we move, you realize we will be MISSIN' moments like this all the time…"

"Ryce…" Met said, looking at her with an expression that implored not to go to that mindset.

"Jus' sayin'! 'Nother break then? Grand. Gonna go feed the baby." She said with a smile, standing up with young Zane and, for Noel's boundaries, moved to the kitchen.

Drinks were once more filled…snacks replenished…a newborn burped…Noel had been spat up on and promptly changed his shirt…

"…That you seem annoyed with and/or avoiding gettin' laid s'jus' really bizarre…gonna pretend s'alien thing," Ryce nodded to Nigel as he returned, taking his place on the couch, having also changed in to a pair of black slacks and a black shirt. A blackish blush formed at the knowing look she and many of the rest of his family were giving him.

"I don't want to induce labor on an alien hybrid that we know next to nothing about. I've been wanting to for MONTHS, but I'd rather forgo my own pleasure for the health of the child," He replied, matter-of-factly as he folded his arms as some form of defense against their looks.

That was enough to give the young mother pause as she returned to playing with her son and giving a quiet mumble in his direction.

"…Well yea, you COULD say it like that and make me feel like a terrible person."

"You ARE a terrible person," Tara reminded her, sitting down opposite the mother on the U shaped sofa. "You BRAG about it!" Ryce shot her a small glare as the others returned to their own spots. It was short-lived before a smirking Nigel leant across and added in a whisper,

"I could also point out that you were actually quite right."

"M'always right," her mouth quirked into a grin as Zane tried to bat his wee fist up at his pointy-eared "uncle."

Sophie walked back in, beaming a smile as she hugged Ryce somewhat awkwardly before settling back down, cuddling up to the alien.

"All's good." She muttered, rather informally as she seemed less charged, less energetic.

"Sex fixes and creates all of life's problems" Met agreed.

"Amen to that."

"All I want for Christmas is a set of friends with boundaries," Noel hummed to the tune of a classic Christmas song. This actually drove a laugh from Victor and Llareness and a smile from Raven.

"Hush up, Scrooge. We wanna hear the end of this," Cyborg teased. Well, some of them didn't, but they wouldn't let Nigel and Kory have all their time and not give the same thought and considerations to Met, Ryce and Rob.

* * *

"I…I can't have a baby without a doctor," Ryce moaned, having raged herself out. Met nodded, sharing her worry, kissing her temple and whispering her comfort.

"That's ok," Miho said, running in. Even at a run Miho didn't seem worried, or even to have a hair out of place. "You have a field medic on hand," she looked to Met. "Carry her. I've set everything up."

Met nodded, picked up his wife, and followed the older woman. Ryce was letting out a pained moan and leaning her weight into Met, teeth gritted against another contraction,

"Field medi-ARGH!"

"I got you," Met whispered, kissing her again and promising, "I got you – field medics are AWESOME…RIGHT?"

"…Well, I haven't done this in a few years, and the pregnancy thing is pretty new– " Miho responded honestly.

"Oh God…" Ryce sobbed clutching her stomach with another yell.

"Okay, yeah NOT HELPING," Met growled, trying to keep his balance with his wife howling in his arms.

"Where are we going?" Ryce hiccupped as Rob came stumbling up behind them.

"Ugh…what did I just slip in? You know what, never mind. What should I do?" the young blond man asked.

"Did you get all the towels?" Miho asked.

"Uh…towels…yea," Rob nodded, holding up his arms which were over loaded with what little linens he could find in the mostly empty house.

"Hurry, I'm going to need your doohickey since I have no tools," Miho informed him, walking past and disappearing through one of the doors in the hall.

"…The Weapon of the Elder Gods is not a "doohickey" mother," Rob grumbled a bit mutely.

He barely finished before Met was all but shoving his way past, knocking the Titan out of his way to follow after Miho. The room she had ducked into they found to be the main floor's full bathroom. Their attention was immediately drawn to the tub, where a few inches of warm water were waiting. Towels lined the edges, one or two lying against the floor under the water to prevent an occupant from slipping. Miho had taken to the sink, scouring her hands with soap and warm water.

"Robert, get over here and do the same I'll need your help. Adam…going to need you to help her with her leggings and shoes."

"Help? Uh…what am I doing that requires my hands sterilized? Also, tub?" Rob said blankly, doing as he was told as Met did the same behind him. He made a point not to glance back as the chaosling balanced his wife and helped her undress, "We're doing this in a tub?"

Ryce's body wracked with a frightened sob as she did her best not to double over in pain.

"…Rob, if you have another critique, I will melt your tongue. Do I look like I'm joking? STOP TRIGGERING MY WIFE'S PANIC BUTTONS." Met snarled, easing her down.

"…Do not melt my son's tongue," Miho sighed, carefully. There was just calm enough that it wouldn't trigger any violence out of panic, but also gave off the reassurance that if such an act would be done to her son then it would be the second dumbest thing he could have done. The first would have been staying in the same room with her after he had done so.

"Tell him to stop scaring my wife!" Met demanded; though it almost sounded as if he were pleading with her, knowing they couldn't do this without her.

"Robbie, stop scaring the pregnant woman," Miho reluctantly agreed, calm still radiating from her like a beacon. "I shouldn't HAVE to tell you this, son."

"What the hell did I do?" Rob kneeled by the tub, casting a dark look on Met, "All I did was as – argh!"

Rob sputtered off suddenly, caught in a fit of coughs as grayish smoke spilled out his mouth. It was WILDLY reminiscent of that one and only time he tried a cigarette as a kid to be cool. He tended to not remember the time Ryce shoved one into his mouth. It also WILDLY reassured why he'd never understand why Ryce and Met used to smoke themselves.

"You ASS," he choked, gagging on the sudden mouthful of smoke.

"What part of 'I have my scared birth-giving wife in my arms and I'm stressed' didn't you get?!" Met called back with a…surprising, mildly hysteric chuckle. It seemed picking on Rob was helping him find his center…Shame being, Rob didn't seem to be quite okay with being the punching bag.

Gauntlet's eyes had only enough time to narrow slightly, before a clawed hand had seized the front of his shirt and dragged him down to the edge of the tub. It took him all of a second to see another metal hand gripping Met by the shirt just as closely. With a gulp, he glanced up to meet Ryce's none-too-pleased stare.

"…Thank you for using the less painful metal, sweetie," Met managed to get out in a quick yelp.

"I…am…havin'…a…BABY," Ryce growled at them both, "I don't CARE if you two are panicked. Pull it together, or god so help me," her eyes locked on her husband, "I will rip the cause of this off with my BARE HANDS," and then they switched to Rob's, "and make YOU eat it. UNDERSTAND!?"

"…Yess'um," Both Rob and Adam gulped, nodding their heads vigorously.

"On relevant news, you're…really dilated down here," Miho interrupted the tense silence that followed. There was a note of surprise in her voice.

"What the hell does that even me-aaaaaaaaaahhhh!" Ryce's rage bled out of her with the strain of another contraction.

"W-what should I do?" Rob asked, managing to pull the tattered remnants of his shirt out of her gripping hand.

"…Not as much as I expected," Miho replied, "I thought we'd need a C-section for such an early baby…but she's fully dilated. It's like she's fully developed and ready. Stand by!"

"Developed?" Met whispered, reaching for her hand, giving her something to grip.

"Keep her calm!" Miho snaped, shooting Met a quick glance before attending to the more important issue at hand. "BREATHING."

"C-section?" Rob hissed, keeping his voice low, "You were going to have me cut her op-"

His outrage halted. He was kneeling beside his mother, to help. Rob stared calmly at the sight for all of three seconds, before his eyes rolled back in his head. Eyes disappearing in to his own sockets he toppled backwards and landed with a heavy thud, out for the count.

* * *

"You fainted?" Noel asked blandly as Garfield and Victor began to laugh hysterically.

"…You…said you wouldn't TELL them that part," Rob growled at Met from the living room floor.

"…Really? That doesn't sound like me," Met mused, intrigued as he rubbed his own chin in ponderous thought.

"…You fainted." Noel repeated, enjoying the taste a second time around.

The Morning Child passed along a bowl of spaghetti to the Titans, all of whom curiously had their eyes closed. "And this – THIS is the sight that befell Rob the Pansy. Behold, FEEL my wife's…PLACENTA. Wooooooo~!"

"Most curious in texture!" Starfire said with a shudder.

"…This better not be dinner," Robin grumbled when it was his turn.

"Why did we agree to do this?" Raven sighed, passing the chance to stick her hand in the bowl.

"Better question…why does everyone have their eyes closed," Ryce asked, reentering the room with a freshly changed Zane against her shoulder, "…and why are Kory's hands in the pasta salad for tonight?"

"Well…" Met began, his mind already working on an interesting excuse that could also be true.

"Wait-" she turned to the heavily pregnant woman on the couch. They had become fast allies against everyone else when they both realized their timely conditions, and thus she knew she'd get a straight to the meat of the issue. "-Sophie, m'I gonna be annoyed with Adam's answer?"

"Yup." She replied, almost jovially.

"I was using them as a narrative prop," Met reassured her.

"…Right. I love my husband, so m'not askin'," the angel sighed, sitting next to him and repeating the last part of that as a quiet mantra. "So…judgin' by the disgruntled and embarrassed look on Rob's face, we've reached…?"

"The part where Rob's first sight of woman bits made him drop into a dead faint like a dainty lady?" Jinx snorted, again sipping her beer as she leant back on the sofa

"…I hate…all of you."

"You're touching that bowl and still drinking?" Terra asked incredulously.

"Can we open our eyes NOW?" Cyborg groaned in agreement.

The Titans didn't wait, opening them in relief.

"I'm surprised you all listened in the first place. I never closed then," Noel raised a brow. The unease on their faces told him this was just dawning on most of them, too.

"You have no magic," Met accused, flatly.

"…Ryce, I don't think I'll be eating this," Raven sighed, eyeing the bowl and going a little green at the edges. It was somewhat unusual for the mystic to be squeamish.

"…Kory's hand is in it up to the wrist…I don't think ANYONE will be eatin' I-Sophie for Christ's sake I will make a new bowl, don't eat that!" Ryce snatched it away. Dealing with the Titans, sometimes, was an education in and of itself for dealing with children.

"I was kidding!" Sophie said, defensively, though an all too familiar rumble echoed from her. "For the most part…"

"Just finish the story guys," Tim sighed.

"So yes…after we managed to wake Rob up…" Ryce continued.

* * *

Ryce was screaming. Not quite on par with the pained shrieks she emitted the morning of the White Call as Ricky seeped into her mind. But it was a close second. One hand gripped desperately down on Met's hand and wrist. With a growling groan, she pressed the shelf of her chin down against her chest struggling with the pain and pressure that seemed to be tearing her apart.

"…A…Adam?" she managed, sweat pouring off her forehead.

"You…you're doing great Ryce…I think…" Rob reassured her from the other end of the tub as he looked up at the ceiling and handed his mother another towel.

"Honey, stop talking. Need to concentrate," Miho whispered, sweating herself in strain. It was the first time they had seen her slightly disheveled and it did nothing for Met's panic. "…Okay…Ryce? Another one's coming. Get ready to push…you're doing great…just keep breathing. He's crowning…"

"I can't…Adam I can't," Ryce sobbed tiredly, she was having trouble breathing, she was exhausted and when not in contraction her body was limp and almost lifeless. "Too soon… too much…"

"You can." Met whispered, his body was shaking and his own forehead had beads of nervous sweat that pinpricked his skin. "You can, because I know you…you're strong. You'll give it your all. I know you will. I KNOW it's enough," he kissed her hand. "Please, believe it too."

"…Hur's…" Ryce moaned, her eyes locking with his, shining feverishly with the tears of pain and terror.

"…I love you," he replied, "I'd do this for you if I could."

"…Ryce, I'm sorry, but we're almost done. He's coming, so get ready to PUSH." Miho chimed in again, cutting through the quiet moment.

Exhaustion rimmed, bloodshot eyes peered down at the woman. Ryce had nothing in her to give…it felt like it had leaked out of her and down the drain never to come back. She braced a foot against the end of the basin anyway and nodded, "…o…okay"

"I love you," Met repeated, hugging her tightly.

She buried her face into Met's neck…squeezed his hand…and SCREAMED. It tore up and out of her mouth from deep within her chest, something cracking and inhuman in it. Rob thought for sure something in her throat would have to tear with the force of it. And then it tapered off into nothing.

…Silence…

Soft silence…broken only by soft gasping breaths.

…And then…a reedy, little whine…

"…w…wow," Rob murmured from beside his mother, looking into her hands with eyes in wide amazement.

Met stilled, looking down at the pair crouched beyond the towel covering his wife's lap, as if he had been frozen in time.

"…Adam?" Ryce murmured into his neck, her voice so drained and tired. Even in her exhaustion, though, she was struggling to sit up. A low sound grated from his chest along with a deep inhale, and he tried to steady her, "…is it…?"

Rob handed his mother a clean towel, wrapping it around something in her hands as it continued to whimper and then wail. Both seemed preoccupied with this task. So much so, they had yet to even answer the two watching them.

"He's pissed." Rob laughed, his voice a strange relieved pitch; too high and breathy but…positive.

"…He's…a fully grown, baby boy." Miho said quietly, taking the towel and turning on the faucet for fresh water to resurface. It was amazing how easily they could hear her even despite the wails, the unhappy wails raking at Ryce and Met, who trembled just as much as his wife, "…Kids…he's healthy. He…he's a perfectly healthy newborn."

"…M…my baby?" Ryce rasped, trying to get a better view.

"He's okay Ryce…geez, he's a little butter ball," Rob reassured. He'd have made a joke about the cakes and the feasts throughout the last eight months, but thought better of it. Why spoil what could be described as a perfect moment. Ryce laughed tiredly, giving it a bit of a hysterically edge.

"I wan…I wanna see him…" She spoke; her voice was so soft and drained only really heard Adam. Miho and Rob both seemed rather distracted.

"…I…" Met started, looking torn between two halves: the one that wanted to stay by her side, and the one that desperately wanted to hold on to that baby in Miho's arms. His free hand gripped the tub so hard that cracks began to form.

"…10 fingers…10 toes…no tail…just wings" Rob counted off for their benefit.

"…p-please," Met finally managed, earnestly.

"…Lemme see?" Ryce joined in weakly.

Miho blinked up at them, "Oh, I'm sorry. I just wanted to clean him. He's ok now, aren't you?" The baby kept crying and she winced. "I can see he doesn't like me much, but that's okay." she moved out of the tub and gently, VERY gently, placed him down onto Ryce's chest, soaking the remains of her dress through.

The tiny baby blinked up at her, a mess of dark hair on his little pink head…two tiny black downy wings curled up tight to his body, not yet strong enough to unfold. Brighter blue eyes than a newborn would typically have rolled about fearfully. So many new things…sights…smells…tastes…sounds…feelings. Overwhelming and terrifying. They finally came to still on her.

…and Ryce…could not breathe.

"…Zane…"

Silence.

And then the baby started whimpering in need. Not for the need of anything in particular, just in need.

For some reason, it made Met chuckled a laugh that was three-parts sob, and he hugged them both close.

"Our Zane."

"…don-don't cry," Ryce whispered, and it could not have been more apparent that Miho and Rob no longer existed for them. "We're here. Mommy and…and D-Daddy are here."

Zaney, the naked, fragile baby, could not have possibly understood them. But as the golden warm mists seeped into his little body, and as his mother shushed him gently, with kisses, he stopped crying, curling up against them, awake, but with everything he needed.

"…Yeah…" Met said, his voice hoarse and tired. "I love you both, so much."

Ryce smiled, sagging against him.

"…Ok," Miho's voice shook them from their bliss. "Let's get you cleaned up, hun."

* * *

They…just watched each other .

"…Look at him. He looks like you."

"Has your eyes, though."

The new family was clean, in fresh clothes, and, as always, comfortably warm. The master bedroom had the perfect bed for resting, and after the mess left in the living room, there seemed to be little point in not using it. Ryce's aching body was already knitting back together, and the parts that weren't yet, were deliciously numb; even so, she liked the bed. It made this whole bizarre scenario somehow more…normal.

The newly-dubbed Zane was curled in her arms – she wasn't letting anyone else hold him just yet – with big, blue eyes that strived to take in everything, regardless of how it made his tiny head spin. His father simply planted the occasional kiss on him, perhaps believing that it would make his small task easier.

"…he's…ok…" Met murmured. His voice still quivered a little. "…no problems?"

"No problems." Miho replied. She was standing by the bed with her son, and while happy, she did seem confused, "…for all intents and purposes, he's an average 9-month-developed baby. With a powerful set of lungs to add to the bargain."

"How…how can that be?" Ryce asked, her own voce husky. In her case, it was due to all her screaming. Rob smiled, noticing she made no effort to hide the tears glistening on her cheeks, not when they were for Zaney. "He doesn't need a doctor?"

"You should have one make sure as soon as you can," Miho frowned. "He looks perfectly ok to me, but better safe than sorry. You should be sure to get checked out, too."

"All in all, he's a scamper," Rob gave his own professional opinion, gently caressing the baby's cheek with a finger. "I'm sure he's fine."

The baby was fine, but didn't seem to appreciate the prodding, curling quietly against his mother's chest. His tiny back rose and fell in time with her breathing, goggling up at his parents in eternal askance.

Ryce let out a mildly irritated 'tch!' and waved the intruding hand away. Adam leaned closer to him, nuzzling his belly with a soft purr.

Miho obviously fawned at the scene, "…hehe…congratulations, kids. Really," she smiled widely, before poking her son with her elbow. "Hey. See how happy they are? When are you going to get me grandchildren?"

"Well, I am seeing a green girl…" Rob chuckled, skirting around actually answering. He had no intention of even thinking about children for at least another decade. They couldn't all be incredibly fertile bunnies in heat like Ryce and, disturbingly, Met. Besides, his money was on Llareness as the next one of the Titan affiliates to become a parent, for exactly the same reason that Ryce found herself in such a state.

Las Vegas and an unlimited bar tab.

"I'm sure she doesn't have another side to herself she keeps secret, so the relationship doesn't crash and burn," Pangloss said conversationally from the door.

Only Rob jumped. Miho didn't react at all, beyond covering her son's mouth to muffle his yelp. And while Zaney continued relaxing quietly, Met and Ryce tensed imperceptibly, with Ryce clutching her baby closer.

"…For your information, I know about her White Martian thing," Rob replied, once he recovered. "Doesn't bother me."

"…Oh," Pangloss blinked. "…Really? Damn. My gossip network used to be so reliable."

"Yes, Pangloss?" Miho cut in, ignoring the topic. She did remind herself later to talk to someone about Martians, however. The godling frowned, but cleared his throat and continued.

"Nothing, your insaner, older, progeny finally removed the quarantine in the house – thanks for that, by the way, very nice – and asked me to let you know. I figured I might as well, since I'm already on a beer run."

"Thank you, Pangloss, that was very nice of you." Miho smiled, genuinely, as she nodded to him.

"Yeah, yeah," Pangloss rolled his eyes…Which was how he spotted the Matthews, much to their chagrin. "Oh hey. Squeezed that one out, did ya? Thought you looked about ready to pop. Mazel tov."

Miho blinked.

Rob blinked.

Met blinked.

Ryce narrowed her eyes.

(Zane drooled.)

"…What…exactly do you mean by that?" The new mother asked, disbelieving that even Pangloss would call her fat at a time like this. Pangloss raised his brows in mild perplexity but continued regardless.

"It's…a Jewish thing. Means congratulations. It's actually most often used for weddings, but I'm not ruled by tradition!" He declared boldly. "I do what I want."

"No – No, you idj – " Ryce started, before cutting herself off, probably because of her baby. "You said I looked ready to pop, what do you know, why did you say that?"

"…Duh, you were the size of a blimp." He shrugged, as if he was saying that air helped you breath to a simpleton.

"…Oh."

"And the gestation period for a Morning Bun in the Oven is 8 months."

"What?"

Even Met started at that.

"…Huh," Miho said thoughtfully, "…yeah, that'd explain a lot."

"Did you know about this?" Ryce hissed, turning to her husband. It was taking all her effort not to yell, and she was willing to do such a thing as her baby curled a little more in her arms.

"No," Adam promised, looking as surprised as she did. "Mom died when I was a kid, remember? And I'm not exactly in contact with the Morning House. No one explained to me the finer details of their birds and bees."

Ryce sighed, accepting that easily enough, and melting against him. For a second, before she straightened again, and turned towards the godling at the door.

"Wait. You knew about this."

"…I thought that was already established," Pangloss said.

"Why didn't you say anything?" Ryce growled.

"How was I supposed to know you didn't know your basic biology?" The godling demanded. He paused before continued. It had been a fair answer and if he had left it at that then all would have been fine, but he had been insulted, assaulted and spurned, so he was going to add a little more alt to the wound. "Plus someone locked me in a beerless house for six hours."

Silence.

Ryce was twitching. Her teeth were grinding. But she just held her baby, and her vile.

Until her husband's hand touched her shoulder gently.

Adam Matthews stared at Pangloss with flat, endless eyes.

And then, he spoke. "This December 24th."

Pangloss stared into the intense nothingness in those eyes with confusion.

Adam's eyes narrowed, almost imperceptibly. "…You."

And then the boy sighed, nuzzling his wife. Ryce seemed to relax too, content. And, again, nothing could disrupt the family's peace.

"…huh," Pangloss blinked. "Wonder what that's about. Anyway, off I go!"

And with a wave, the godling was gone…thankfully.

"Well," Miho smiled, "that'll be something to look forward too."

"Oh God, I hope not," Rob muttered, watching the family get lost into their new member. Something odd passed through his eyes at the sight, and he smiled mutedly. "…I'm gonna go check up on the status of the hospital, okay?"

His mother blinked at him, probably picking up something there, but nodded.

The parents didn't really hear, and Met busied himself purring into his baby's scalp.

The last thing Rob heard as he left was the beginnings of a very clumsy, very squeaky, purr.

* * *

The group of men and women were a few short seconds away from another group "aw" as they looked to their newest and youngest number. Sensing the story winding down, Rob inched his way away from the others heading over to the fridge to grab himself a soda as they asked trivial questions of the new parents. Weight, length of foot, length of wing, yadda, yadda, yadda. He never quite understood why those things were important; after all they wanted to keep the child, not sell it.

He was just shutting the icebox and turning back, when he found Kory standing a few inches away, head tilted to the side in askance.

"Did you not have your own tale to tell as well, friend Robert?" she asked, quietly as she leant against the counter.

Rob paused, thinking back to the day after Zane's birth. Where he went…what he did…Only two people knew what happened the day after but…no, this was the family's day. He shrugged and thought back.

* * *

The sun was setting as Rob walked from the car and up to the large iron gates of Valhalla Cemetery. He pulled his coat a little closer around him as the winter chill gathered and attempted to break its way to his skin. Despite what he had intended to do, he wasn't dead to the world; the cold still got to him on a physical and metaphorical sense. It was bizarre being here after yesterday. They had gotten Ryce into the hospital finally, both mother and son checked out fine. One extreme to the other, he realized looking up at the gate.

"Some things never change." He said under his breath as he walked forward and wrapped gloved fingers around the cold iron rods and pushed. The gateway swung a little and clanged, meeting resistance…fighting against something metallic. "I stand corrected..." He said, looking at the chain.

The Gauntlet made quick work of that, the powerful artefact always seemed strongest when he was in the same state as Pangloss the Mighty. It was purely psychosomatic, he knew that. The Gauntlet had been explained to him several times and by several different people that always understood the facts of the mystical device a little differently. In short, it was driven by his confidence in the weapon. If his belief said that the energy was stronger than an iron chain, it was stronger than an iron chain.

And today, he decided it was, the chain falling away as he opened the tall gate wide and stepped inside of the cemetery. The sun was just dipping past the horizon now, but the light of day was still more than visible as he wandered through the white marble plaques, the statues and the tombstones. Off to one side, on a plot that was set apart from the big names of heroing in Uberton – away from Captain Foundation, or Kurg the Unbeatable – was a statue. It wasn't of a well known hero with a double barrelled chest, and a catchy, witty name. The statue was of a slim man, wearing a rather cheeky grin, the kind that warned you he was going to pick your pockets and manage it without you noticing. A cape blew in the wind to show a t-shirt and jeans, and a pair of fingerless gloves. A main of spiked hair roared behind him. The plinth bellow the caped man read simply;

Johnathan "Evil John" Arcwrite  
Born December 13th – 1987.

Died March 15th – 2008.

"Don't let this all fool you; I'm really a bastard on the inside!"

Survived by his Mother, Britannia, his Father, Energy Baron, and his Sister, Abigail

He will be missed.

Rob couldn't help but smile as his lips mouthed the words on the plinth. The others had wanted to put other things he had said, such as how he liked to keep things simple or how he would be back to his old self soon, but Rob had always liked that turn of phrase. It described him, in his entirety; sardonic, sarcastic, acidic, cynical, lovable. He was everything to all men, for better or worse.

Rob pulled a brown bag from the inside of his coat, as well as two metal goblets and sat down next to the ridge which covered his friend's plot. The metal covered hand withdrew from the bag a bottle that read Major Medical's Black Label, finest highland Whisky. He…knew nothing about drinking. It had been nothing short of bizarre asking Ryce what was good whiskey as she lay on her hospital cot nursing her son. Nurses stared.

"Sorry I'm late, John. Things have been kind of busy this last year." He said, in a voice that was slightly broken at the edges as he sat down on the grass, snapping the lid from the bottle and pouring out a healthy measure for himself and a healthy measure into the other.

And as the darkness of night filled the Graveyard, a pale white light reached forward and came to rest on the plinth.

"I was afraid you'd forgotten me." Evil John said, his voice sounding distant and weak, but his smile having lost none of its radiance in death. Rob, instinctively, felt for his wallet.

"Was delivering a baby."

"…seriously?"

"It's good to see you again." Rob said, as John scooped the spectral form of his cape under him and sat down, his strange, translucent, body not disturbing the grass one iota except for an alarming chill that seemed to come to the air.

"It's good to be seen. It...takes so much to be seen these days." He said, sounding tired just trying to describe how exhausted he was.

"How've you been?" Rob picked up the goblet before him and took a sip from it. He wasn't a hard spirits man; hell he didn't often drink at all. At a time like this, though, in a place like this, he couldn't have resisted the pun even if he'd tried.

Evil John reached down to the second goblet, and grabbed at it. At first his fingers looked as if they had passed through the little chalice, pulling back and leaving the metal goblet in its place. In his hand sat a spectral replica of the cup and its contents. He took a sip and nodded, contentedly.

"I'm dead, so I can only really go up from this point." He said, sarcastically, as he offered a roll of the eyes. There was no colour in them; their usual dark shades and red flecks were replaced with a washed out grey as if he were blind. "What about you? What's the news about town?"

"Well...met a girl." Rob started. He raised a hand and brushed down the back of his hair, allowing John to stare at him as if he'd just said the moon was crashing in to Wisconsin.

"…It's not that bitchy death chick you struck out with last Christmas right?"

"…No…but thank you for reminding me of that cheerful moment. Actually, she was the one whose baby I helped deliver. I'm talking about someone else…"

"Well don't leave me in suspense!" His British accent reverberated from the other side, almost echoing with itself when he spoke louder than a whisper. A smile had broke out over his face again Wind seemed to rock the trees for extra-added effect. "Who is she?"

"Her name's Megan. She's, well..." He paused, a small smile on his face as he attempted to put in to words what was on his mind.

"Man, you don't have to be serious around me." John cut in, raising a hand. This caused ghostly wisps of smoke to roll from his form, creating little clouds of steam before becoming one with him again.

"That's just it-" Rob started, glad for the change of subject, even to this one. "I don't...I don't feel the need for funny, anymore. I'll still laugh and joke and tell funny stories, and fight off grandmothers with stolen dogs, but I...I just..." He floundered. He wasn't one for verbose.

"Alas, poor Yorik. You knew him and his jests can no longer wage war against the savage breast?" John asked, mangling together several Shakespearian quotes into one. Gauntlet visibly winced, his mouth pulling at the edges in slight pain.

"Is this a badly misused Shakespeare reference I see before me?" He asked, paraphrasing.

"No; it's a bloody dagger, and you know it is." John finished as they laughed together. It seemed so strange, and not just because one laugh seemed to echo and reverberate through history as if it was pulling on laughs of the past to make up some strange facsimile. Rob hadn't remembered the last time he laughed and smiled, not genuinely. He'd put on a face, so many faces, to try and mask his own insecurities to the point that there was nothing to him but laughs and jokes.

But that wasn't true, and sitting in a graveyard while talking to a dead friend proved to him that there were parts he hadn't wanted to acknowledge, that there were parts that dragged him down and brought him low. He'd been brave enough to let it slide, the jokes, the walls, but it was seven years of being the punch line. Seven years of letting others have their way because you had to try and bring a bit of levity to the world.

Heroing should be more than just how many bad guys you put away; it should be about what good you can do on many levels; and he tried so hard. But now...now he was tired.

"I don't have to play the fool with you; you were my straight man. But, when I needed to, you allowed me to play at that role myself from time to time." He spoke, softly, into his glass. John nodded; his hair was somewhat unmoving in the other world except for the occasional twitches or nods of the head he offered.

"So-" John took another sip from his glass and pointed a finger at Gauntlet. "-This girl; is she blind or just gullible?" He asked, the broad and slightly malicious smirk appearing on his lips as he leaned back, lounging on the grass as if it was some great roman lounge chair.

"She's neither!" Rob said, standing up to defend the absent Miss Martian. They laughed again; it was good to laugh.

And it continued for hours. The pair talked about everything they could think of; they reminisced over the old times.

Rob retold the story about how they met, John adding in key details about the scenario. How John was on a city wide, low end, crime spree and he got tricked into signing the hero club charter which forced him to fight on the side of truth and justice! Because, seriously, who wants to try and fight lawyers?

They told of their various adventures together, meeting Wendy and her bee suit that she'd stolen from Buzz Bomb and then modified in high-school shop class to become Craze-Bee. How Bulwark had cloned a woman from another dimension and she ended up being in a teenager's body with the mind of a child, and how she became the Candide's adopted little sister. About Viridian and how she'd joined the Super Hero Club and they all worked together with Rob's long time friend Amy.

The sky changed, from the pitch of a midnight sky it slowly became lighter; the black of night becoming a deep navy blue, moon falling as the night seemed to roll and retreat from the presence of the day.

"And then, I'm standing there with my cape being the only thing to protect my dignity-" John mimicked the motion with his cape, trying to cover as much as he possibly could, his eyes darting from one side to the other. "And this cop looks me straight in the eye and asks; you sure you're not supposed to be somewhere, and then you said-"

"-I knew we should have taken a left turn at Albuquerque!" They both finished together, relaxing as the laugh faded from the air. Gauntlet's eyes were cast down at the grave for a moment, watching the grass flutter and move around the corpse light that was pouring from his formerly living friend.

"I miss you, buddy." Rob said reaching a hand up and wiping his eye as his voice cracked at the edges. He couldn't help it, he'd been wearing another mask. Seeing John, joking with John, it had all come to the surface. The ghost reached out a hand and placed his spectral fingers on Rob's arm, where the Titan swore he could almost feel them.

"Hey, hey, it's alright, man." He smiled, though it was as hollow as the gallows. "I miss me, too."

Rob laughed, but as soon as he had done so, he broke, his body rocking forward and sobs coming cleanly now. His body shuddered as he drew in deep, haggard, breaths. His mind flung himself back to the day he'd called in the Super Hero Club to fight the world altering forces of Superboy Prime and how, in a moment no one could foresee, he'd killed two of his closest friends in one blast with zero remorse.

"It's not fair, man; you wouldn't have gone if I…if it wasn't for-"

"Now stop that, right fucking now." John said, his voice becoming louder and more powerful as the wind blew through the trees. "You did nothing wrong! You hear me? Don't you fucking blame yourself!" He placed the spectral goblet back on top of the real one, the insides becoming dark and grey as if someone had managed to kill whisky.

"But-"

"But, but, but, now look and mark me well, Candide. You didn't kill me, you didn't drag me anywhere I wasn't prepared to go!" He pointed a translucent finger at Rob, who looked up and stared in to the dead eyes of his friend. He could have almost seen the red flaring there, like he used to. "I went to that thing, I fought that cheep ass Superman knockoff, not because the Titans gave the call or it was for the betterment of humanity!" He snapped, saying the word Titan as if it was some form of disgusting title, akin to a leper, or a human resources manager.

He leant forward and smiled again, the scar on his cheek twisting once more. "I went there, because you needed help. I didn't give a flying damn about Robin, or Starfire, or any of 'em. You were there, and you needed help" He held a fist up, profiting it to Rob. "We're bros, man, always will be."

Rob wiped away his eyes and laughed again, just about keeping it from becoming another fit of tears, as he met John's fist with his own. Both fists exploded back, opening their palms wide before swooping in and slamming in to a friendly bro-shake. The sound of Candide's live hand hitting Arcwrite's dead one echoed like a funeral bell, but it didn't matter.

"I love you, man. And I still miss you." Rob said, nodding to him. John smiled, offering a wink.

"I can't blame you; I'm the complete package." The smile faded as he looked past Rob for a moment and breathed a heavy sigh. Rob turned he saw why as the blackening sky had turned purple with the early morning sun. Soon streaks of red would fill the horizon and the graveyard fog would disappear for one more night.

John's hands grabbed a hold of Rob's shoulders, turning him back. "Now I want you to listen to me, Robbie, no matter what the stakes, you have to keep going. You deserve happiness, you deserve the sunshine and the rainbows and five bratty kids and a mortgage; all that crap."

"What are-"

"I don't have a lot of time, so don't interrupt!" He yelled as a new urgency crept in to his voice. "I'll be back one day, I'm doing what I can about it, but you have to keep going. I'll be here, if you need me; I may not be able to talk but I'll listen. We care, man, all of us do. You're our boy!" John's own voice cracked at that line as he took another deep breath he didn't need. "You're our star! We live on in your smile and your words, and your deeds. I know it's hard, you got people riding you every which way from Sunday, but you can't give in or give up."

Spectral tears fell from the face of John, dissolving shortly after they rolled from his cheeks in to the free air. "I miss you, too, but I hear what you do and I am so PROUD to have called you my friend. My best friend, but you have to move, and don't look back for me. I'll be here with you so don't you fucking look back!" His voice echoed and wailed, the trees of the graveyard shaking and rattling with whistling wind as he squeezed Rob's shoulders tighter. "We talked mostly about what we did! That was grand, but you've got to keep looking forward!"

"When are you coming back?" Rob asked, placing a hand on his friend's shoulder. John shook his head sombrely, blinking the tears from his dead eyes.

"It's harder for villains." He said, taking another breath and sobering himself up. "Heroes come back. Heroes walk from their graves and are reborn in to a world that needs them. Villains...get replaced." He sighed, nodding. He looked to the grave of Wendy; rumour was she had already returned from the dead and was once again out in the world doing well, but he couldn't be certain, as things never are.

"You may not have liked it, but you were a hero in the end, Johnny." Rob said, leaning forward and embracing his friend in a hug. Already, he could feel the spectral form fading and slipping from his grasp.

"Yeah, but I'm a real bastard on the inside." He joked, pulling back, fighting against the day and the tears. "Keep going Candide; make the world proud. Let them see you as we all do, here in Uberton."

"I will, John, I promise." Rob cracked a weak smile.

The sun crested over the horizon, burning away the morning fog, and with that Jonathan Arcwrite was gone.

It took him a little while to compose himself, the burning of fresh tears in already sodden eyes stung him once more, but eventually he stood up and collected the goblets from where they were. He poured the desiccated remains of John's drink on the ground, which blew away as if it were ash in the wind and placed them back in his pocket. He stopped the drink, the cork sinking easily in to the bottle as he placed it back in to the inside of his jacket. He'd save the rest for when John made it back to the world.

He stood for a moment longer, thinking, contemplating about what to do. John had practically begged him to move forward, to move onward, but he didn't want to leave them behind. To move on, to leave his life behind him, could he do that?

Could the Gauntlet retire? Become Robert Candide of Bulwark? Or perhaps just the Gauntlet, solo Vigilante? Or remain Rob "Gauntlet" Candide; Titan and proud? There were so many ways to move forward.

But he'd find his way, the way that was right for him.

He took something from inside his coat and leant down, placing it against the stonework with an audible click of synthetic plastic against natural marble. He drew himself up to his full height, and nodded down at the gravestone. It took a little bit more resolve to set his features but, when he had least expected it, he had managed to release a smile. A weight had been taken from him, it would seem.

The communicator glinted in the morning sun as Rob nodded once more, the white T emblazoned on the front almost lighting with the red of the morning. "You were a hero in the end, John, if you liked it or not. See you soon, pal."

He turned, then, and strode off. He didn't look back; he knew that John was with him in spirit if not in body. He knew he had to keep going, he had the strength of character, he had the strength of purposes and he knew that there were those still on his side.

He saw Megan standing by the entrance to the cemetery, her arms folded as she leant against the car. She wasn't watching him, per say, she was just aware he had arrived as she pulled her hair behind her human-styled ear. The dark freckles on her face could be seen now, in the glowing morning light.

"How was it?" She asked, reaching a hand up and touching his cheek. Her thumb dragged across his skin as she looked in to slightly puffy eyes. "You've been crying..."

"Yeah; I never did when he died. I guess talking with him..." He started, taking a deep breath. She pulled him close and held him for a moment as he regained his composure. He didn't have to wear the mask with her either, she liked his jokes but she liked him as him and not as some prankster or some tool that's used to improve others.

Megan, as Miss Martian, heard his mind. She hated doing so with him, but she could feel there was a lot of guilt and bad energy being dragged around from that day; and now it was gone. Rob had let go. He wasn't crying just because he was sad, but as a relief that it was over. A few sniffs later and he pulled away. "I needed this." A sleeve ran across his eyes, offering a small laugh.

"What do we do now?" Megan asked, resting his hand in her own. He looked down in to her eyes, beautiful red eyes that seemed to carry the sun with them.

"...Breakfast. Emotions always make me hungry for breakfast." He joked. It wasn't a false joke, though, one that was designed to hide or obscure, but a genuine laugh. Something he had not done in so long.

"After all that, you want breakfast?" She asked, not hiding the astonishment in her voice. He shook his head.

"No, there's something else first." He said, with his voice low. "This is stupid, I know, but some things can't be said with words..." He took her chin in hand, and leant forward. The kiss was impassioned and seemed to be alive almost of its own accord; bring forth the new freedom and allowing him a greater vigour and warmth than he had for months.

Megan didn't pull away. More importantly she didn't slap him or hurt him, or kick or anything. She seemed a little shocked but her resolve promptly melted as she leant in to the kiss, running a hand across his back and holding him closer to her as the car supported him trying the same.

And as cautiously as it had begun, he pulled back and looked her in the eye again. "We've hung out, we've joked around and played around a bit but...I like you, more than I can really describe. I want to be more serious with this." He rolled his fingers in front of his face, gesturing to his features. "I have no masks around you, no need to feel I should perform or be something else. I want to see where this goes, if you'll let me."

She paused, and pulled him close again, holding him tight.

"We'll see where this goes."

* * *

Taking a sip of his Cola with one hand and balancing a caffeine-free one in the other, Robert gave a shrug and lopsided grin to the tall woman before him, more relaxed than he had been in years.

"Just went and saw an old friend; caught up a bit. I may tell you later, but for now I'm fine. It was nothing as exciting, or as magical, as poofing a new person into existence."

"There was nothing magical about you staring up my dress!" Ryce called from the couch as he laughed genuinely and made his way back over.

"The feeling is mutual" he nodded, handing her the other can. "In the end, all that matters with our story is Ryce and Met had a healthy, beautiful baby boy." He raised his soda and clinked it against Ryce's drink in cheer.

"Thanks to you and your mother, Robbie" Ryce said kindly, her hand cupping Met's and giving it a squeeze, before she leaned over and kissed the other blond on the cheek. There was a…knowing sort of look to her eyes. Rob chose to disregard it.

"So is that all?" Raven asked with a small smile.

"…Well…" Adam and Ryce looked at each other. The baby in their lap, not one to be left out, looked up at them, "one last thing."

* * *

"…Hon?"

"Hm…?" Ryce smiled, watching their baby sleep.

"I hate to say it, but," Met sighed, and smiled at her as she fussed with the baby in his hospital cot, "after everything that happened, I don't think we're getting our deposit back for the house."

His wife shifted towards him, with big, pensive eyes. "…Adam, our child was born in that house," she smiled. "I'll be damned if I let someone else have it now."

Met stared into those eyes…The words sunk in, and he wondered if he should apologize. But those eyes told him everything. He didn't need to.

Instead, he kissed her back when she leaned in.

* * *

Ryce pulled away from the chaste kiss, now taking place on the couch, her thumb gently stroking her baby's cheek. Met leaned away as well, resting back against his seat and wrapping an always warming arm around her.

"It all ended up working out for the best." Ryce explained, "Apparently the previous owners weren't particularly that excited or amused by my water breaking in their living room. Even if we tried, they weren't handing the deposit back over so…it was a good thing we loved it so much."

"Those insensitive…" Llareness started, before a gentle nudge from Savior persuaded her that she shouldn't go off on a tirade; probably for the best, all in all...

"Have you both set a move-in date?" Sophie asked kindly.

"Well we need a bit of time to get furniture…fix a few things up," Met replied, "It'll be a few months before everything is totally set up and read to live in. We're thinking spring some time."

Those assembled nodded quietly, still absorbing that the newest to their ranks was not only the first married with a child, but also leaving. The youngest family members evolving before anyone had been given notice. The interdimensional wayward travelers settled. The Fool questioning his jest. Growing up…

"Who's next?" Ryce asked cheerfully, cutting off the path to where those thoughts led.

It wasn't the end, it was just the next step.

Speaking of next steps…

"I think that's us." Victor said with a smile.

* * *

To be continued…

Thanks for reading our last fanfiction. It's been fun. Book time now.

-Sloth and TerRaine

...

Also…

"By the way, Met," Noel said. "It's the 24th. What was that Pangloss thing about?"

Met tilted his head.

Meanwhile, in Uberton…

"Welcome, Warriors of Will," the man with the tucked-in shirt and socks with sandals said grandly to the gathered crowd, "to our week-long AA Annual Holiday retreat!"

"One day at a time!" The crowd cheered.

"Well said! You will not find a single drop of alcohol within miles of our camp," the man's pride was palpable. "Of course, other minor vices like TV and cigarettes won't be found here, so let's all have good, clean, FUN!"

"YEAH!" said the crowd.

"No…noooooo…" Pangloss said instead, pounding his fists against the forcefield surrounding the entire camp, which did not bend even to his powers, "NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO….!"

And back.

"…Your brother does magnificent work, Rob," Met smiled. "For the highest bidder too."

"…I don't want to know."


End file.
